Blood Ties
by Rogue11
Summary: Milliardo has always been lucky, except when it comes to love it seems. But when he is approached by a tall and handsome stranger at a bar he feels something he has never felt before. But is it the proverbial spark of love, or something far more sinister?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Happy 13x6 day!

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><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 1**

_"...Look on the bright side, Miri, at least you will be able to see other people, you know. Hey, I'm not saying I didn't have a great time with you. I really like you. I also like pizza, but that doesn't mean I want to eat it every day, breakfast lunch and dinner...if you know what I mean. Anyway, no hard feelings, right? If we ever run into each other in the future...who knows what will happen." _

_No hard feeling..._ Milliardo snorted. _If you've had the guts to actually face me instead of breaking up with me over my answer machine I'd have shown you some hard feelings._

Scowling he massaged the bruised knuckles on his right hand where he had punched the wall in lack of a better target after listening to the message.

_Stupid jerk._ He downed the rest of his drink, Wild Turkey with just a touch of ice, in one long gulp and slid the empty glass toward the barkeeper.

"Give me another one, Duo." he demanded.

"Perhaps a cup of coffee might be better," a low and smooth voice behind him suggested.

"Who are you; my father?" With another snort Milliardo turned his head, then did a double take.  
>The man he was facing looked like the love child of an ancient Greek god and a supermodel. In his late 20s, tall, handsome and incredibly build. His neatly trimmed, ginger-colored hair was combed back except for a few stray tendrils that had fallen over his forehead. His eyes were of the most incredible shade of blue, deep and dark as a bottomless lake. He was wearing a pair of tan slacks and a silk shirt that matched the highlights in his hair.<br>His eyes sparkled and his lips curved into the tiniest of smiles. "I'm pretty sure I'm not." he answered Milliardo's question tongue in cheek.

It took the young man's whiskey clouded brain a second or so to remember what that question had been.

"I know that's really none of my business, but if you keep this up you will be feeling twice as bad in the morning." the stranger told him and Milliardo felt the urge to snort again.

"What makes you think I am feeling bad?"

Mister Gorgeous ignored that question, his smile widening just a little, knowingly. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure. Make yourself a home." Milliardo gestured at the leather covered seat next to him and the stranger settled down with a polite nod.

"Thanks." He gestured for the young man behind the bar. "You got coffee or something like it?"

"Something like it," the barkeeper confirmed.

"Could you bring us two cups, freshly brewed."

"Got it," Duo replied. His long, chestnut-colored braid swayed as he turned toward the cappuccino maker. Even as he filled the machine with water and freshly ground coffee his eyes never left the mirror behind the bar.

"By the way my name is Treize, Treize Khushrenada," the tawny-haired man introduced himself, and Milliardo nodded at him.

"Milliardo Peacecraft."

"Milliardo," he let the word roll from his tongue, his voice deep and velvety soft, as he looked the young man up and down."That's an interesting name. I think, it fits you well."

"Thanks...I guess." Milliardo gave a semi-amused huff and a little smirk.

"Ah, that's much better," the tawny-haired man said, and at Milliardo's puzzled look he added: " That smile suits you far more than the scowl you were wearing earlier."

The young man almost blushed. _What the..._

Just then Duo turned, setting two large cups of cappuccino topped with tick foam down on the bar. Treize moved one of the cups closer to Milliardo and as the young man reached for it their hands briefly touched.

The moment his fingers brushed against the other man's Milliardo felt something like a tiny surge pass through his body. It felt almost like being zapped by static electricity, only far more pleasant. If Treize had noticed it too he showed no indication. For a moment Milliardo wondered if this could have been the proverbial spark of love; he had never felt anything like it. But then he just grinned wryly and a little embarrassed. _Idiot!_

The other man raised one slender eyebrow at him.

"Nothing." He just shook his head, then took a sip from his cappuccino, wiping the foam from his lip with the back of his hand.

"So, what happened?" Treize asked after a while. "Bad day?"

"Hmm... you could say that again." Milliardo pressed through his teeth. "I got dumped."

"Ouch!" the older man grimaced. "But it's her loss."

"His."

"Excuse me?"

"His loss." Milliardo repeated. "You do realize you walked into a gay bar, right?"

Treize looked around, very slowly. "Yes, now that you mention it."

Milliardo couldn't help but smile, something about the other man made him feel very much at ease. "Come to think of, I don't remember seeing you here before. New to the area?"

"Not really. I was bored and a little lonely tonight so I went out, driving around..."

"Prowling?" Milliardo finished the sentence.

"If that's what you'd like to call it." Treize shrugged vaguely but for just a moment there was a strange flicker in his blue eyes, too brief for the younger man to notice.

Milliardo laughed, earning himself a surprised look and another raised eyebrow.

"Did I say something funny?"

Still laughing, he gestured at his cappuccino cup. "Most 'prowlers' I know would aim to make their prey drunk not trying to sober them up."

"Is that so? Well, I am not like 'most' then, I supposed." Treize gave another shrug.

_Oh, you have no idea how right you are. _

As Milliardo looked up his eyes met the other man's and he swallowed. He could see his own reflection in those blue orbs and something else that was hard to describe. Quickly he averted his gaze, running his finger over the rim of his cappuccino cup.

That's when Treize noticed his bruised knuckles. One of his eyebrows shot up inquisitively.

"It's not what you might think. I was punching the air when a wall jumped up and right into my fist." Milliardo replied, his voice laced with sarcasm.

The older man clucked his tongue. "Don't you just hate when that happens?" When he reached out to brush his fingers over those bruises Milliardo was struck again by the same sensation he had felt when they first touched, only a lot more intense. A warm feeling settled in the pit of his stomach and he almost shuddered. _How is he doing this?_

Treize gently grasped Milliardo's fingertips and the warmth in his stomach stared to spread south. His brain felt like he was floating on a soft cloud, and somehow he suspected that wasn't just the Wild Turkey's doing.

"You really should put some ice on those."

_Or...you could just keep doing whatever it is you are doing?_

At that moment someone bumped him from behind and a voice heavy with alcohol mumbled something that sounded like an apology. The small club was beginning to fill up and even the bar stools that had been empty earlier were now taken.

"Should we go something a little more quiet?" Treize suggested.

"Your place or mine?"

The tawny haired man smiled softly. "I was thinking of something a little closer," he explained, gesturing at an still vacant table in the back of the room.

"Oh," Milliardo suddenly felt sheepish.

"I thought you might want to talk."

###

And so they did. Or actually Milliardo did most of the talking. Over the next couple hours he told Treize about his boyfriend... ex-boyfriend...and his love-life in general, until it suddenly struck him that he was talking to a virtual stranger. Or maybe it was just that the caffeine in his blood finally was beginning to win the fight with the Wild Turkey.

"Oh geez, you must think I am a total nutcase; talking your ears off like that."

Treize laughed quietly, it was a soft and gentle sound. "Not at all. I find you very interesting, Milliardo and I don't mind listening. In fact I have been told I'm a great listener."

The younger man huffed. "So what are you, a shrink? Am I some kind of 'project' to you?"

"Not exactly, but trust me I can emphasize with how you are feeling right now. Breaking up is never easy. You are hurt and vulnerable, and that brings out my protective instincts, I suppose. Call me old fashioned."

Milliardo huffed again, certain the other man was just being polite and that they would eventually part with the with the all-saying 'Don't call me, I'll call you' line.

Stifling a yawn Milliardo checked his watch. "It's getting late. I think I'll call it a night?"

Treize nodded understandingly. "Work in the morning?"

"Not really. I work from home, if you want to call it that. So I set my own hours."

"I see. May I ask what it is you are doing?"

"Like I said, you can't really call it work." Milliardo gave an almost embarrassed laugh. "I'm currently going through a creative phase you could say. Painting mostly, and some sculpting."

The older man nodded. "That explains it."

"Huh?"

"I couldn't help but notice you have delicate hands, perfectly groomed. But there are some calluses as though you are using some kind of tools frequently; a paintbrush or chisel perhaps."

Milliardo laughed again, this time in amusement. "Well done, Sherlock Holmes. But I'm afraid you are only partially right. My roommate has been trying to teach me how to fence. Any idea what that does to your hands."

"Fencing? I thought that had long come out of style."

"He is into martial arts, Tai Chi and that sort of stuff," Milliardo explained.

"Interesting. Well anyway," Treize changed the subject. "Any chance I have seen any of your artwork somewhere?"

"Only if you broke into my apartment without me knowing."

This time it was the older man who laughed, deep and bubbling. "No, I think I'd remember that. Besides, if I would break in, your paintings would probably be the last thing on my mind."

Milliardo could feel his ears burn. He cleared his throat. "Well then, It's really getting late. Thanks for the cappuccinos and thanks for your company. I really enjoyed it."

"It was my pleasure," Treize assured him. "Let me drive you home."

"That's not necessary, really. I'm fine."

"That's what you think, I'm not sure any policeman who might stop you on the way home would agree. You had a pretty bad day already, but spending the rest of the night alone in a cell with a 200 pound guy looking for a new girlfriend would top off everything."

Milliardo swallowed. "Point taken." He rose to his feet, pulling his car key from his pocket as he walked over to the bar.

"Duo, I'm leaving the 'vette' here, can you take care of it for me for the night?"

The young man behind the bar nodded as he put down the cloth he was using to polish some glasses and accepted the keys. "Don't worry, I'll tug her in and give her a good night kiss." he grinned.

"Thanks."

###

It was only a short drive to the apartment complex where Milliardo lived. The high-end luxury building, located mid-town, in one of the most expensive areas was only a few years old and held all the comfort and extravagance one could expect for the price.

Milliardo barely remembered his parents. They were killed in an car accident when he was very young - or so he was told, he didn't remember that part either. But when they died they had left him with a trust fund large enough to live off comfortably for the rest of his life. Once he was old enough he had used some of that money and made some very lucky and lucrative investments.

He had bought one of the two top floor suites about five years ago when they had barely broken ground on the project for a cool seven figures. It turned out to be another one of his lucky investments. From what he heard the other apartment just sold for more than double that.

The place included two large bedrooms - three if you counted the separate guest room he was renting out to a friend - and three full bathrooms, a large living area with open air sunroom, a generous sized kitchen and his studio.

"Nice place," Treize remarked as he pulled his Mercedes into the large secured parking lot.

"Thanks." Milliardo hesitated as he took off his seatbelt. Finally he turned his look to the man in the driver seat. "Would you like to come up?" he asked. "I could show you some of my work...if you promise not to laugh. And I could repay you for the cappuccino and the drive home with a..." he checked his watch. "...very early breakfast. I make some darn good coffee and omelets, or so I have been told."

Treize laughed quietly. "I would like that."

They took the private elevator, accessible only with a special key card, to the top floor.

"Are you sure this will be alright with your roommate?" the older man asked as he watched the sparking city lights through the elevators glass walls.

"Wufei? Ah, don't worry about him. He sleeps like an elephant."

Treize gave another chortle, quiet and amused. "You do realize elephants are very light sleepers?"

"Are they?" Milliardo smirked wryly. "Bad comparative then, I guess."

"Just out of curiosity, why does someone who can afford a place like this need a roommate to begin with?"

"It's not about the money, if that's you mean." the younger man replied. "At least not for me. Wufei needed a place to stay and I wanted someone to look after the place when I leave for the weekend and such. Couldn't have turned out better. He is straight, quiet, keeps to himself and..." Milliardo's lips turned into a smirk. "...doesn't care if I bring strangers home at 3:30 in the morning to show them my studio and feed them omelets and coffee."

"I see. In other words he is the perfect roommate." The amused expression on Treize's face mirrored Milliardo's.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened with a soft hissing sound.

"This way."

The younger man pulled out his keys and led the way. He unlocked the door and stepped into the pleasant coolness of the air-conditioned apartment. Milliardo turned his head, looking back over his shoulder.

"Let me go ahead to turn on the lights in the studio," _... and make sure it is presentable_. He had suddenly remembered the last time when Antoine had modeled for him and he ended up having wild sex with him on the studio floor rather than paining him. "You think you can find your way into the living room without me?"

#

"I'm sure I can manage." Treize smiled softly, but that smile all but fell from his face the moment he crossed over the threshold. Suddenly and without any warning he was hit by something that spread through his body like liquid fire; hot and painful. He gasped as he jumped back on an inhumanly fast motion.  
><em>Protection wards? What the...<em> It had caught him completely off guard. _It's a trap,_ he concluded instantly, steeling himself for a possible attack. But when Milliardo turned his head in surprise he realized the young man had no idea what was going on.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He somehow managed a smile even as his muscles still spasmed with the last tremors of pain. "Hit my funny bone on the door frame. Not as funny as it sounds."

"Ouch, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he assured the young man."But perhaps we should postpone our little tour of your studio for some other time. It IS getting late."

"But you are here already, so don't be silly. Come in."

"Are you sure?"

Milliardo nearly rolled his eyes at him. "Would you like a written invitation?"

_That would be nice, but I think the simple 'Come in' should suffice. _"Very well then?" The tawny-haired man took a careful step forward, bracing himself for another jolt. But it never came. Just as he assumed Milliardo's official 'invitation' had deactivated the wards. _Interesting!_ He smiled; it was the smile of a hungry tiger watching a baby deer play in the evening sun.

"The living room is to the left. Try not to run into any more things." Milliardo called out teasingly as he disappeared down the hall.

"I'll try my best." _So if he wasn't the one who put up the protection spell, who did?_

###

Wufei woke with a start and it took him a moment to realize what had roused him. Somebody... Something had triggered one of his protective wards. Shaking his head to drive away the last traces of sleepiness as he jumped up, he reached for the sword hidden in his bed between the frame and the mattress.

Dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt - he had fallen asleep watching TV - he dashed out of his bedroom and down the hall only to nearly collide with the tall figure of an...Incubus?

_How did he get in here? My wards should have stopped him cold at the door. Milliardo, you fool!_

"Not another step." he demanded. "Not unless you want to end your life right now and here."

"Who are you? His chaperon?" The demon looked almost amused.

"I'm his guardian," he growled and with one swift motion the young man pulled out the curved sword, discarding the scabbard carelessly on the floor. He seized the weapon with both hands, summoning his power, and Nataku's blade started to emit a silvery glow.

The incubus did not seem too impressed. Instead he raised one eyebrow. "What would he need to be guarded from?"

"The likes of you."

There was a little huff. "But you don't even know me."

"I know more than you might think about you and your kind. And I'll be damned if I'll let you get close to him."

"You must be Wufei...Wufei **Long**, I presume?" the creature said, with special emphasize on the last name.

"It's Chang, but yes I am a member of the Long clan," he replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I see you know your guardians, Demon."

"In case you have not noticed, Guardian, I have been invited," the incubus pointed out, an almost complacent smile on his lips.

"Well, consider yourself uninvited." Wufei growled, raising the blade to emphasize his words. "Now leave while you are still in one piece and able to. I won't make this offer a second time."

The demon huffed in a mixture of sarcasm and amusement. "My my... you are quite a ferocious little dragon, aren't you?" He turned on his heels but threw a look back over his shoulder before he left. "Something tells me we haven't seen the last of one another."

Brows knitted into a scowl Wufei watched the Incubus strut toward the elevator. He waited until the doors had closed behind him before he loosened his grip on Nataku. The silver glow faded and he slipped the blade back into its protective sheath with a sigh of relief. _That was close._

His hands were shaking and he had to close his eyes to steady himself. He just stood there taking deep, calming breaths until he heard the sound of footstep behind his back. He turned quickly, relieved when he recognized Milliardo in the dim light in the hall.

"Wufei, I didn't realize you were still awake."

He managed a nod, gesturing at the sword in his hand. "I was practicing."

"Geez, you know there is a fine line between dedication and obsession." the other man teased as he walked past him and into the still darkened living room. A surprised frown crossed his face and he flicked on the lights. "Treize, why are you sitting in the..."

His frown deepened. The room was empty. Milliardo turned his head toward his roommate.

"Wufei, have you seen Treize? Tall, ginger-blond, incredibly sexy; looks like he just stepped out of the cover of some hot fashion magazine."

"Maybe." the younger man replied vaguely.

"What do you mean; maybe?"

"He left." Wufei finally admitted.

"He what?"

"Left. As in he went away, walked out of here and took the elevator down."

"I know what it means to leave." Milliardo scowled. "Did he say anything?"

Wufei gave a little shrug. "He mentioned something about having to be somewhere early in the morning and almost forgetting about it."

Kicking the doorframe in a surge of anger Milliardo snorted. "Dumped twice in one day. That has gotta be some kind if record or so."

"It's probably for the best." Wufei offered quietly. "I mean you really didn't know anything about that guy. For all we know he could have been some kind if serial killer."

The other man rolled his eyes. "Wufei, some day we really need to sit down and talk about what that kind of paranoia can do to you," he replied. "Besides, have you ever heard of a serial killer with that kind of body and that those looks?"

"Do I have to say Ted Bundy?"

"Hmm... Point taken," Milliardo mused. "But I don't think even Bundy had an ass like that."

This time it was Wufei's turn to roll his eyes. "Alright, I think I better go to sleep." _After I set up a couple extra wards, just in case._

"Yeah, me too." Milliardo agreed, his tone grumpy. "Since sleeping is all I'll be doing tonight anyway. Good night."

"Good night."

###

As the lights slowly went out in the top floor apartment Treize watched from the inside of his silver Mercedes. He had reclined the passenger seat and made himself comfortable, settling in for a long wait. Although the term long was a relative one for someone who had all the time in the world.

_Who... or what are you, my young, fair-haired friend_, he mused. It was anything but common for an average human to have a personal guardian by his side, a guardian from the Long clan never the less. But he have had a feeling that Milliardo was not your average mortal from the moment he had walked into that little bar. Or perhaps the young man himself had guided him there to begin with. He had not come across anyone with such a vibrant spirit in a very long time. _This is going to be interesting._

Finally the last light in the apartment died. A smile crossed the incubus' face. "Good night, Milliardo," he whispered in his deep and soft voice. "Sweet dreams. And good night to you too, my fierce, little guardian dragon."

Even though Milliardo's invitation was still standing Treize decided that it was wiser to stay out of the apartment, for now. Besides, there were more than one way for an incubus to interact with its prey. Physical contact was, of course, the most enjoyable and satisfying one... But sometimes, one had no choice but to play the hand one had been dealt.

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><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note: Here is a little teaser for a new story that I am planning on working on soon. Hope you enjoyed.

In addition, for all of those who asked about it, I also reposted my story Sugar and Whips on my website, including a brand new chapter. You can find the link to my site on my bios page.


	2. Chapter 2

**Blood Ties**

**Chapter 2**

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><p>He was wearing a loose fitting pair of black jogging pants and a T-shirt imprinted with the slogan 'I didn't vote. So don't blame me for the mess!' Tendrils of mussed blond hair stuck to his sweat covered forehead. He had been jogging for a good twenty minutes at a comfortable speed without pushing himself too hard. About two or three steps behind him a small gray and white bundle of fur was bouncing along the jogging trail. The puppy's long tongue was lolling out of its half open mouth, and it started to wag its furry tail when the young man glanced back at him over his shoulder.<p>

By day Bower's field, a large park in the center of the city, was crowded; filled with screaming, playing children and their nannies, families on picnic blankets and runners of all ages.

That's why he liked to come here at night when the park lay quiet and deserted. In fact he had only passed one other runner on his way along the sweeping path, as well as a middle aged man walking his dog - or was it the other was around?

A good number of the tall streetlights along the path weren't working, their light bulbs shattered by mischievous teens no doubt. But the golden glow of a nearly full moon provided enough illumination for him to see the ground at his feet. Perhaps if there would have been a little more light he would have noticed the pair of amber colored eyes watching him from behind a tall bush.

#

Those intense, slanted eyes never blinked as they followed the young man on his way around the greens. Furry ears perked up in alertness. the tall dark wolf kept himself hidden behind branches and foliage. Its long, slender muzzle slightly opened exposing an ferocious set of ivory colored teeth. The creature lifted its nose, testing the air. Amber eyes burned with hunger and exhaustion.

He had been on a trail for nearly three days, not daring to stop for a rest or even to catch a meal; too afraid to lose the scent he was following again.

But then it happened anyway. His target had entered the city where is scent had mingled with thousands of other smells, and he had eventually lost him near this park, leaving him angry and frustrated...and hungry.

His eyes wandered from the runner to the small dog at his side. Probably mostly fur and bones but an easy kill, he figured. it would sustain him until he found a larger prey.

The young man had completed another lap around the center green and was coming toward him again. The wolf stirred, ducked down further. Lean muscles tensed beneath deep brown fur, ready to pounce at the right moment. The mouth opened wider, a long pinkish tongue swiped over those impressive canines, and the creature swallowed in anticipation.

But suddenly the air changed. The bristles along the back of its neck rose and a low growl formed in the depth of this throat as the tall wolf aborted his attack, wary and somewhat surprised.

#

Quatre was finally beginning to feel the strain. His breath came in short shallow pants and the back of his shirt was dark with sweat, as he passed the mile marker for the sixth time. He was considering calling it a night when the puppy suddenly let out a deep growl. It passed him with a few leaps and barked into the darkness ahead of them.

The young man tensed when he noticed a large dark shadow approaching, but relaxed as soon as he recognized the blue clad figure of an uniformed policeman. With one quick move he stepped forward grabbed the puppy by the long fur around its neck and pulled it into his arms.

"Good evening, officer." he greeted friendly. "Is everything alright?"

The man stopped in front of him, hooking the thumb of his left hand into his belt as he thrust his chin toward the still growling puppy. "Is this your dog, Sir?" he asked.

"It is." Quatre confirmed with a nod.

"You are aware of our leash laws in this city?"

"I am. I'm sorry," the young man winced as he pulled a thin braided leather lead from his pocket and hooked it onto the puppy's matching collar. "I just figured since nobody else was around..."

The officer gave him a stern look. "I will let you off with a warning this time. But if it happens again it will cost you," he warned.

"Thank you." Quatre nodded. "I understand."

The other man turned to leave then stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "You should be careful. We had several reports of coyote attacks in other parts of the city."

"Coyotes?" Quatre echoed then gave an awkward shrug. " I guess we can't blame really them. They were here first after all. But thanks for the warning."

As the officer walked away the young man plopped down into the green grass. It smelled like it had been freshly cut, a scent that reminded him of summer.

"Enough running for one night," he announced. "I'm starving."

The puppy started to bounce up and down on his lap, his little tongue flickering over the young man's face.

Quatre laughed. "I know, I know. Yyou are always hungry. But you know the deal. I get to eat first. Should we hit a drive through on the way home?"

The cuddly dog gave one cute little bark then suddenly tensed. His head turned toward a row of bushes about thirty or so yards away and there was something in his eyes that was neither cute or cuddly.

"I know," the young confirmed seriously. "I felt it too. Time to leave. Let's go Triton."

###

With a yawn Duo Maxwell reached for the last set of dirty glasses, washed and rinsed them before putting them upside down on a towel to dry. He dried his hands on a second towel then used it to wipe down the counter behind the bar.

It was about a quarter to three in the morning and he was the only one still at the Rainbow Pond. The last guests had finally packed up when he started to put up the chairs, and Phil, his cook, and the kitchen help had left about ten minutes ago.

The door was still open wide, letting in crisp night air but the colorful neon sign above it had already been turned off. He had just put the money from the cash register into the heavy wall safe when he felt someone behind his back. For a moment he thought that Phil had returned to fetch something he had forgotten. But when he turned there was a young man with dark unruly hair standing in the open door.

"We are closed." he announced as he gazed at the late visitor.

"Oh," the other man spoke quietly. "I was hoping I still could get something to eat."

"The cook left already." For a moment Duo's eyes studied the slender figure. "But what the heck... I guess I could throw a steak on the grill if that will do?"

The stranger nodded. "It will do," he confirmed as he stepped closer. "Thank you."

#

The steak, if you could call it that, was the size of Texas, spilling easily over the sides of the plate. It as seared on the outside but pink and rare in the center. Hell, any rarer and it would have still been mooing and walking around on old McDonald's pasture.

Heero barely tasted the first few bites, wolfing down the meat with a sense of urgency. Only when the worst of his hunger was still did he slow down to actually enjoy the food. And that's when he also noticed that he was being watched.

The bar's owner had finished whatever he had been doing earlier and was now leaning against the dark wood of the counter behind him, studying him.

His eyes were most intense shade of purple Heero had ever seen. He didn't realize human could have purple eyes.

"Am I keeping you?" he asked.

The other man shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I don't think I have seen you around before. New in town?" He wanted to know.

Heero nodded. "Just got here," he confirmed.

"Got a place to stay?"

"Not yet. Haven't had time to look."

"There is a couch in the back room..."

He frowned slightly as he looked at the young man with the braided hair. "Why?" he wanted to know.

"Why?" The other youth echoed. "Because sometimes I like to catch a little nap here or there."

Heero's frown deepened. "Why are you helping me, I mean."

"I know what you meant. Maybe because I know what it feels like to be a stranger amongst strangers," the bar keeper replied with a shrug. Then a smirk crossed his face. "Or maybe I am just a weak spot for strays. By the way my name is Duo... Duo Maxwell."

"I am Heero Yuy," he replied.

"Well then Heero, let me show you the back room. If there is anything else you need tell me now. I am going to lock up the bar when I leave."

####

A light was still burning behind the heavy curtains of one of the windows on the first floor when Quatre pulled up in front of the large mansion he and his family had called home for several generations.

He slipped out of the car and climbed the staircase to the front entrance two steps at a time. Quietly he unlocked the door, picked up the gray puppy and put one finger over his mouth. Perhaps he could sneak upstairs and into his room without being noticed.

No such luck.

"Quatre!" His father's voice came through the half open door of his study.

He swallowed a curse. "Yes?"

"Are you getting home only now? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I was home at 11, you can ask Izza if you want," he defended himself. "I couldn't sleep so I took Triton to the park and went running."

"Son, I don't think you understand the concept of curfew. If I say I want you home at midnight, I don't mean I want you to just check in and leave again."

"Perhaps we could talk about this in the morning?" He sighed. "It's kind of late and I am tired."

His father didn't answer and he decided to take that as a 'yes.' He hurried up the wide sweeping staircase and disappeared into his bedroom at the end of the hall.

As he closed the door behind himself he set the puppy down on the ground. On his way into the bathroom he pulled the sweaty T-shirt over his head, discarding it carelessly on the floor. Triton followed him on the heel. As Quatre leaned over the bathtub to turn on the shower the air behind him began to shimmer. Alarmed he jerked his head around, but it was already too late. The puppy was gone, replaced by the tall and slender figure of a young man with brown hair and green eyes.

"Trowa," he gasped. "Are you out of your mind? Not now, Father might still..."

Before he was even able to finish the sentence there was a knock.

"Quatre!" His father didn't wait for an answer before he entered the bedroom.

Quatre's eyes went wide but the one he had called Trowa simply raised his hand, closing the bathroom door with a thud without ever touching it.

"Umm...what is it, Dad? I am about to jump in the shower, I'm already undressed," the blond lied without losing a beat.

"Remember to take Triton to the vet tomorrow...today," his father corrected himself. "He needs to get his shots. And don't forget to make an appointment to have him fixed. It's best to get it done before he gets any older."

"I'll take care of it." Quatre promised through the closed door. Beside him Trowa narrowed his eyes.

"Have me fixed?" he whispered.

The blond glared at him even as he called out. "Good night, Dad. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

He could hear fading footsteps and then the door to his bedroom closing and let out a sigh of relief.

"This..." He gave Trowa another glare. "Is exactly why I told you not to change unless I tell you to."

"Fixed?" the young man repeated. "I didn't realize I was broken."

###

Dropping the extra blanket beside him as settled down on the couch Heero took a long look around the room.

There was a small table with three chairs opposite the couch, a few pictures on the walls and a large movie poster he didn't recognize. Pale moonshine fell through a barred window above the table creating a small circle of light in its center. The room wasn't large and there was a faint odor of coffee and cigarette smoke in the air, too faint for anyone without his acute sense of smell to noticed. Heero imaged that the people who worked here probably used the place as some kind of common room. The couch had seen a few seasons but it was comfortable, he realized as he slipped of his shoes and stretched out. He raised his arms, slender fingers interlaced behind his head and stared up at the ceiling for a long moment.

He wasn't sure why the one who called himself Duo Maxwell had helped him out, but at the moment he was too exhausted to care.

_Tomorrow_ he thought. _Tomorrow I'll go back to the place where I lost his scent. That's really all I can do. Maybe I can somehow pick the trail up again. I have to find him. I will find him,_ he corrected himself.

_And then_? A voice in his head asked.

_And then I'll kill him!_

_And then?_ The voice repeated.

_And then? _He never even had thought about it. _It doesn't matter_, he decided and closed his eyes. _He will die and I'll at last have my revenge._ _Once he is gone, and I survived I'll have time to think about what to do next._

A few minutes passed and he was about to drift off into sleep when a sudden noise alarmed him. It was like a faint scratching sound followed a number of even fainter sounds.

Heero's eyes flew open, turning from blue to amber colored and his sight adjusted instantly.

Being able to only call up his senses without having to fully transform into his wolf form was a rather difficult skill to master, but its usefulness more than outweighed the effort.

His head snapped around into the direction from where he had heard the noise and then a soft smirk crossed his lips.

Beneath the table he noticed a small plate, or saucer, he hadn't seen earlier. And on it a tiny gray mouse was eating little scraps of bread and cheese obviously left for no other reason. The animal froze for just one second staring in his direction then turned its attention back to the meal.

Heero gave a quiet snort_. I suppose he really does has a soft spot for strays_, he thought in silent amusement as he turned over, pulled the blanket up to his neck and closed his eyes for good.

####

With a yawn Milliardo walked into his bedroom, his hand searching for the light switch to his right. When the overhead lamp flickered to life a fraction of a moment later his jaw nearly dropped. Sprawled out across the sheets of his king size bed lay someone he really hadn't expected to see again.

"Treize?"

"It's about time," the tall, tawny-haired man complained as he propped himself up on one elbow. "I was starting to get bored."

"What are you doing here?"

Treize raised one eyebrow as though the question puzzled him. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm waiting for you of course."

"And you are... Wow!" Milliardo's wandered over the man's body, taking in every inch of exquisite pale skin from his head to his toes. Treize was flawless: long muscular legs, tight abs and a perfectly chiseled chest with a pair of taut, rosy nipples. He looked like an image born out of someone's erotic fantasy. "You are naked."

The older man laughed, deep and sultry. "I didn't expect you to get this flustered, considering you have been undressing me with your eyes all evening."

"If I did," Milliardo replied, his voice playful. "Then only out of purely artistic interest of course. "

"And?" Treize wanted to know. "How am I measuring up... Artistically speaking of course."

The younger man crooked his head and he took one step toward the bed, then another. "Hard to say. I would have to take a closer look...a much closer look."

"Please do." Treize purred invitingly.

Kneeling down on the edge of the bed beside the naked man, Milliardo felt his heat beat faster, his mouth went dry.

Treize snaked one arm around his waist pulling him closer. His gaze fell onto the younger man's pajama pants, the only garment Milliardo was wearing, as he raised his other hand.

One slender finger started to wander across his bare chest and the young man shivered in delight.

"Am I going to get a close look too?" Treize inquired as his fingertip moved up the other man's neck, caressed his chin and finally brushed over his soft full lips.

Milliardo swallowed again as he slowly leaned in and covered the older man's mouth with his own. The kiss was indescribably intense... intoxicating, and when their lips parted he was left yearning for more. But the feeling only lasted until Treize breathed a trail of soft kisses along his jaw. The blonde dropped his head back, exposing his neck to the other man. A hot tongue ran over his collar bone and he shivered in a spasm of raw physical need.

Treize started to gently suckle at the soft flesh of the nape of his neck. Slender fingers found their way beneath the waistband of his pants and he purred in pure delight.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	3. Chapter 3

**Blood Ties**

**Chapter 3**

The music started quiet but grew progressively louder with every beat. Still, it took a few moments before the sound made its way into Milliardo's mind, waking him from pleasant slumber.

He reached out with one hand, aiming for the edge of the nightstand where he had put his phone before going to bed. Blindly the young man turned off the alarm then rolled over and pulled the blankets up to his neck. He always liked to take it slow in the morning, lying in bed lingering on the edge between sleep and awareness, the phase when your mind feels like floating on clouds, for several minutes before actually opening his eyes. Today however it seemed to be especially pleasant, almost like basking in a delightful afterglow, complete with a warm and fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

_What a dream! It seemed more real than it had the right to feel. Hell, I don't think I ever had hot sex like that in real life. Maybe I should be writing adult novels with an imagination like that_, he thought in amusement, and a sated smile curved his lips.

###

A ray of golden sunlight tickled his nose and Quatre growled and tried to pull the covers over his head. Through the open window the wind blew bits of laughter and the babbling sounds of children in from the garden below.

_What day is it? Right, its Thursday; Iria is over to visit_. His oldest sister had moved out after she married, several years ago. But she came by for a few hours every week when her husband was out of town.

_She's brought the rugrats,_ Quatre concluded as another wave of laughter carried into his room.

"Puppy! Puppy! Get the ball." He heard the younger one, two year old Karim junior, yell and then the little boy laughed again.

_She brought the dog too? Wait! My sister doesn't have a dog!_ "Crap!" The young man jerked up, the last traces of sleepiness gone from his startled eyes. "Trowa! Triton?" Next to him the bed was empty, and he noticed that the door to his bedroom was slightly ajar.

"Crap!" He cursed again as he jumped out of bed and into a pair of jeans. He grabbed a T shirt from a chair overflowing with clothes, pulling it over his head on his way out the door.

For all his cute and cuddly looks, Triton could be deadly if he wanted to. But the puppy shape was no more a disguise as the form of the handsome young man he often adopted. Trowa was...well, truth to be told Quatre wasn't even sure what exactly he was. A demon, yes that much he knew...but that was pretty much it. Not even Mister H had been able to tell him more, and the man seemed to know more about the arcane than anyone else.

In any case, Trowa would...could not harm him. The two of them had made a pact that prevented him from doing so. But no such pact existed for the rest of the family, especially for extended family...

A sudden bark and then Quatre heard his nephew cry out. His hearth nearly skipped a beat as he rushed through the dining room and the open glass sliding door onto the patio.

###

Milliardo was whistling as he walked into the kitchen, dressed in a pair of sweats and a tank top, his usual morning wear.

Lowering his spoon, Wufei gazed up from his book and gave the his roommate a surprised look.

"You seem unusually happy this morning," he observed.

A wide smirk curved the other man's lips. "Well, let's just say I had a very...interesting dream." Heading toward the coffee maker he threw a gaze back over his shoulder. "Care to hear details?" he asked.

"As tempting as that might be I think I'll pass." The younger man replied dryly.

Milliardo laughed, soft and bubbly as his eyes searched the coffee display for a flavor of his liking. He eventually picked a dark Italian roast, and reached with his other hand for a mug in the cupboard overhead. A couple of weeks ago he had bought one of those new brewing systems that allowed to make one cup of coffee at a time. The machine accommodated five different cup sizes, and in the morning he always went for the largest one.

"You know what they say, right?" He asked as he put the cup onto the brew station and pressed one of the flashing buttons. "If you don't use it it will eventually fall off."

Wufei huffed but didn't dignify the remark with an answer. Instead he buried his face back into the physics book, hoping the other man wouldn't see the blush that had crept into his cheeks.

Milliardo gave another laugh. The coffee maker was splattering and hissing and the deep rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen. As he settled down at the breakfast counter the blond threw a look at the book in Wufei's hand then at his friend. "Classes today?" he asked.

The young man shook his head. "Just working on a lesson plan for Dr. J."

Wufei was still a senior at MTU but he also worked part-time as an assistance for the head of the science department, helping with everything from lesson plans to experiment preparations and grading test papers. "I thought maybe we could fit some more sword practice today," he suggested.

Milliardo took a sip from his coffee before he answered. "Maybe later. I want to work this morning."

"I got Kung Fu practice at 2, how about after that?"

The blond nodded. "I guess that would work." With a look at Wufei's half-empty cereal bowl he wrinkled his nose. "Is that all you are going to eat?"

"Not if you are cooking something else." Wufei replied with a cheeky smile.

"Lazy butt." Milliardo gave a huff of playful exasperation. "Alright then, how does breakfast burrito sound?"

###

Quatre rushed into the garden just in time to see his sister pick up her crying son. She pulled him into her arms and the toddler buried his face into the crook of her neck sobbing.

Mommy ...Mommy...Mommy," Karim wailed.

"What happened?" Quatre asked with a glare at Triton who was sitting in the grass. "Did he bite him or something?"

"Sssh...sssh..." Iria shook her head as she gently, reassuringly stroke her son's back. Then she gestured at a large, gnarly piece of wood. "That branch suddenly fell from the tree. Triton's barking must have scared Karim and he fell on his butt - thank god for diapers. I think he was more startled then hurt."

"Oh, that's good." Quatre let out a sigh of relief.

His sister nodded. "Yeah, we got lucky. If not for him falling backwards the branch might actually have hit him. I have been telling Father for weeks to get those darn trees trimmed. If Triton hadn't barked...," she paused, looked at the dog and shook her head. "It was almost like he knew what was going to happen."

Quatre gave a little nod as he walked over to the puppy and pulled him into his arms. "Well, you know what they say, right? About animals having some kind of sixth sense about these things, I mean."

He smiled at his niece, Karim's older sister who seemed a little shook up by the whole incident, too.

"Look at you. You are getting bigger every time I see you. Have you finished school yet."

She laughed. "Uncle Quatre, I am only in kindergarten."

"Really?"

She nodded earnestly. "But I can read and write already."

"Well then, maybe from now on you can read books to me instead the other way around," he suggested.

"Alright!"

###

Milliardo's mood still hadn't dampened by the time he had piled the breakfast dishes into the sink and headed upstairs to take a shower.

He stopped at the linen closet to pull put a couple of freshly washed, neatly folded towels, left there by his cleaning service the day before. He passed through his bedroom, grabbing a pair of jeans on his way and headed for the adjoined master bath. But before the actually was able to set foot onto the black marble floor the phone on his night stand rang.

Milliardo didn't bother to pick up, he just held his step, looked back over his shoulder and waited. After the third or fourth ring the answer machine came on. A young woman with a soft voice reminded him of his appointment at Salon Gregory the following day.

_That's right. I wanted to do something about that mess on my head. Maybe I should just shave it all off._ The young man grinned as he imagined the reaction of his friends and associates. He stepped toward the wide double sink, put the towels and his jeans onto the counter, next to a slender vase with fresh cut flowers - probably also courtesy of the cleaning crew. He gazed into the mirror on the wall. With one hand he moved his bangs out of his face then pulled back his hair and turned his head right and left as he studied his own reflection critically.

Suddenly he noticed some kind of blemish on the nape of his neck. The oval reddish purple mark stood out against his otherwise flawless pale skin. "What the...?" _A hickey?_ And it was at the very spot Treize had been suckling at in his dream. _But...that's impossible. How...? _

Milliardo took a step back, more baffled than startled. His hand brushed against the flowers and he could feel the vase slip off the counter. Instinctively he reached out even as his mind screamed "Damn it!"

He knew there was no way he could catch the glass container before it shattered on the hard marble floor. But then it happened. Suddenly time slowed down. Not like when people use that impression to describe an apparently long lasting moment, but rather literally. Everything around him seemed to move in slow motion, the vase...even the water droplets spilling from it during the fall..., everything except for him.

His hand caught the vase mid-air, and before he could even blink everything was back to normal.

_What...? What just happened?_ Milliardo swallowed as he stared at the flowers in his hand.

###

It was not even noon, and under normal circumstances Duo wouldn't have to be at his bar for another four hours. But he figured that by now his strange house guest was probably awake... And hungry again.

Beside him, on the passenger seat sat two paper bags with the logo of a nearby fast-food joint. _I hope he likes curly fries. _

As he pulled into the parking lot Duo instantly had the feeling that something wasn't right. But it took him a few moments to realize what it actually was. The lot was empty - which was not really that surprising considering that the bar was still closed and even the kitchen staff wasn't scheduled to arrive for another couple hours. But there should have been at least one car, one little, silver corvette, right by the entrance where he had left it.

"Damn it!"

Duo jumped out of his truck and rushed into the Rainbow Pond, unlocking the front door on the fly. "Heero?"

There was no answer - not that, at this point, he really had expected one. He hurried behind the bar, checking the little key holder by the door. The peg where the car keys should have been hanging was empty...of course. "Damn it!" Duo growled again. "Damn it, Milliardo is going to kill me."

###

Milliardo dropped down on the leather ottoman next to the bathtub, the one that also doubled as a hamper for his dirty laundry.

_It happened again..._ He could feel his hands tremble. _Just like back then. And I am quite sure this time that I wasn't just imagining things. _

Back then referred to a sunny day in early spring, about three months earlier, when he was out in the county side on his motorcycle. He loved riding his bike, and he loved riding it fast. After all, what was the point of owning a motorcycle capable of going 160 miles per hour if one didn't take the chance of driving that fast every once in a while.

He still remembered it like it happened just yesterday. He was alone on the road, pushing the bike to 110 mph and feeling the pressure of the passing air against his leather clad body. He still wasn't completely sure what happened next, perhaps he hit a spot of oil on the blacktop. Then he suddenly felt a jerk and started to swerve.

He noticed the tree at the side of the road and knew that he was going to crash in that instant. In his mind's eye he could already see the impact coming. And then it happened. Time slowed around him, maybe just for a second or two, but long enough for him to regain his senses and jerk the bike far enough to the left to avoid the tree. He still kissed the asphalt and the only thing that kept him from splattering his brain and perhaps a few limps all across the street was his full face helmet and a pair of well padded leather chaps and jacket. At least that's what he assumed. Still the doctors at the emergency clinic he was rushed to scratched their heads. He should have suffered at least a few broken bones or internal injuries, yet all of their x-rays, scans and tests came back negative.

"I guess it just wasn't my time yet to go," he had told Wufei who picked him up at the hospital a few hours later.

###

Pressed against the wall next to Milliardo's bedroom door, Wufei listened for any sound coming from the inside. Only a few moments earlier a sudden surge of power had startled him out of his studies. He had felt it before around Milliardo, more or less frequent of late, but never this strong.

_The seal is breaking_, he thought. _His powers are manifesting sooner than they should have. It probably won't be long now before he realizes that something is going on. But even more, if I can feel his power others might too. Is that what attracted the incubus demon last night? I need to talk to Master O; he has got to know. _

Wufei listened again, everything was still quiet inside the bedroom. The young man was considering if he should knock and invent some kind of excuse to check if his roommate was alright. But just then he could hear the shower being turned on, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

_Sooner or later he will have to learn the truth_, he thought soberly as he quietly tiptoed back to his room.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	4. Chapter 4

**Blood Ties**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

><p>His long hair was still damp from the shower when Milliardo pulled it together into a loose ponytail. He was wearing a pair of jeans stained with oil paints and a shirt that looked like it had been bought a few sizes too small. It ended just above his navel and spanned around the shoulders and his muscular chest. It wasn't something just anyone could wear, but Milliardo had both the confidence and physic to pull it off.<p>

His studio was the largest room in the apartment. Tall windows on three sides provided for plenty of natural light to work by. Several shelves filled with art books and small statues filed the remaining wall. There was a long working table cluttered with papers, pencils and more books. Milliardo called it organized chaos, and he claimed to know exactly where to find anything he was looking for. Except for the one time after the cleaning crew tidied the room up. Needless to say, the studio was off limit to them ever since.

On the other side near the windows, one of his easels held a large board filled with sketches, depicting different parts of human anatomy; arms and legs in various positions, carefully posed bodies and heads.

The young man scowled as he walked over to the board and started ripping down those papers, beginning with what looked like a study of faces. Though each face bore a somewhat different expression, it was clear that all of them belonged to the same person. Once all the sketches were reduced to small pieces of crumbled paper in the trashcan Milliardo turned his attention to a tall, cloth covered statue in the center of the room.

Pulling down the large grey canvas cover revealed the nearly completed sculpture of a nude, young man. His resemblance to those faces in the sketches was unmistakable. Milliardo's scowl only deepened studied the figure of his ex-lover. A wave of cold anger washed over him and his hands clenched into fists.

"Bastard!" he pressed through his teeth as he reached for the large butcher knife he normally used to cut portions from a big slap of clay.

Swinging the knife over his head Milliardo decapitated the figure with a single smooth slash. _I think I am feeling better already_. _Therapeutic dismemberment; I wonder if that's something a shrink would recommend?_ A grim smile formed on his lips as he continued his assault on the sculpture and within 10 minutes or less he managed to reduce the figure to nothing more than a big pile of clay. And then, with a last satisfied look back, Milliardo went back to the drawing board… literally.

####

Slipping off his shoes as he entered the Kung Fu school, Wufei put his hands together and bowed. Then he settled down, with crossed legs, at the edge of the training mat, waiting patiently for Master O to finish the class he was teaching.

The young man tried to clear his mind in meditation, but he couldn't help wandering back to everything that had happened the night before and in the morning. He had driven to the dojo right after dropping off the lesson plan for Dr J at school, hoping to get a chance to talk to the master in between classes. O was, after all, not only his Kung Fu instructor but also the head of the guardians in the area and his direct superior.

When the large, baldheaded man noticed Wufei he told his students to finish their cool down exercises on their own, and walked over to him. "You are early, Wufei."

"I was hoping I could talk to you, privately, Master O," the young man replied.

O nodded as though he had expected as much, and waved for one of his assistants. "Wang, take over class for me. I'll be in my office."

The tall, dark-haired man inclined his head in silent acknowledgment, bowed and retreated back to the training mat.

Meanwhile Master O turned and headed for a door in the back of the building, gesturing for Wufei to follow him. They entered a small, rectangular room with a desk, a few chairs and a number of bookshelves. The walls were decorated with flags and banners along with several Kung Fu related pictures. It looked exactly like what it was supposed to look like, a small office of a small martial arts school - one of dozens in the city. Few would have expected that it was also the facade for the regional chapter of one of the most ancient groups of demon warriors. The guardians of the Long Clan had watching over mankind, and fighting those dark forces that threatened harm for hundreds of years. And they had done it secretly, quietly and without any prospect of reward.

O gestured at one of the chairs across his desk, indicating for Wufei to sit down. "Tea?" he asked.

"Please." The young man nodded. He watched as the Master walked to a counter at the opposite wall, where an electric water-heater stood.

While he poured tea-leaves from a beautifully decorated canister into a teapot, O threw a look over his shoulder. "How can I help you, Guardian Chang?"

Wufei sighed quietly before he answered. "It's about Milliardo."

A soft smile crossed the older man's face as he filled the teapot with hot water. "He is giving you grief again? Let me guess, you don't approve of him bringing strangers home at all hours of the night."

Wufei gave an almost amused huff. "I am not a prude. And I have learned to live with most of his antics."

"Then what is troubling you?" O set a couple of cups and the teapot down on the desk before settling into the chair across from Wufei.

"He has been using his powers again. It's becoming more frequent," the young man explained. "Most of the time he doesn't even realize or notice it, but this morning..." Wufei shook his head. "I have never felt his powers this strong."

"The seal is weakening?" O asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

"That's what I am assuming, too." Wufei nodded as he rose to his feet to pour tea for the older man and himself. "But why so soon? According to the oracle it shouldn't be happening until many years from now."

"The oracle's predictions are not absolute." O reached for his tea cup with both hand, holding it without actually drinking from it. "As you should know, time is a river, the future in constant motion and not written in stone."

"I know," Wufei admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "I just thought we would have more time to prepare."

"We will have to make do. Besides, the seal is still holding."

"I am not so sure about that," the young man admitted. "Last night he was approached by an incubus demon. My wards barely touched him. I was able to scare him off, but..."

"An incubus?" O frowned.

Wufei nodded. "He knew of the Long Clan and that I was a guardian. He called himself Khushrenada."

"Treize Khushrenada?"

"You know him, Master O?"

"Not personally, no. But we know **of** him and have tried to keep an eye on him for a long time. He is not exactly your average incubus."

"Somehow that was the feeling I got from him. I am sorry I let him get away. I should have fought him."

O shook his head. "You probably would be dead if you had challenged him. You did the right thing, Guardian Chang."

Wufei's brows furrowed. "With all due respect, Master O, I might be young for a guardian, but I have fought my fair share of demons...and survived."

"Not anyone like him." O replied seriously.

Wufei frowned. "Who in the name of the ancestors is he?"

The older man did not answer. Instead he took a sip from his tea and stared into his cup for a long moment, lost in thought. Then he set down the drink and rose to his feet. He walked over to one of the bookshelves across the room. The shelf moved aside easily when O pushed against it, revealing a wall safe large enough to park a medium size car in it.

While the deactivated the wards protecting the safe, O looked back at Wufei.

"The demon is, as you already know, a member of the Khushrenada house, the ruling family of the incubus court. He has been around since about the early eighteenth century. Or at least that's when the name came up for the first time in our scriptures..."

_Two-hundred-fifty years doesn't make him exactly ancient for an incubus, but he isn't a fledgling either,_ Wufei thought.

"He is the spawn of Lord Khushrenada, the current ruler of the incubi, and Queen Rebecca, leading lady of the succubus court," the older man continued as he opened the wall safe and stepped inside.

"He is the incubus prince, heir to the throne?" Wufei asked, surprised.

"At least he used to be, until he decided to overthrow his father." O's voice came from inside the large metal vault. "Somehow his plan was foiled and he had to escape the demon realm. That was more than two hundred years ago..."

"Lord Khushrenada didn't kill him after that?" Wufei asked surprised. Demons in general, and incubi especially, weren't know for their forgiveness.

"Not for lack of trying." O walked back into the office carrying a brown leather book in his hand. "From what I've heard some of the most infamous mercenaries of the demon and human world alike have tried to earn the bounty that's on his head. But Treize has been surviving by being fiercer, more calculating and deadlier than anything Daddy Dearest has been sending after him. But of course, part of it might be that he supposedly has the support of Queen Rebecca."

"So, he is a mama's boy?" Wufei huffed.

O gave a ghost of a smile as he threw the book onto the desk in front of Wufei. "To fully understand you need to remember what you have learned about their kind. There is a reason why incubi and succubi have their separate courts, their own culture even. The creatures mate for life but it has less to do with affection than with power and status. Female offspring is raised in the succubi society and males amongst incubi, so I doubt very much that it is motherly instinct or love that has Queen Rebecca protecting her son."

"She is manipulating him?" Wufei frowned. "Could it be that she is the one pulling the strings in the background and he is just doing her biddings?"

"I am not sure who is manipulating whom, but from what I know I can't imagine him being anyone's puppet. And there is more." The older man gestured at the book. "These pages hold everything we know about him."

_More? _Wufei eyed the leather binding and then at O's encouraging nod he picked up the book, opening it slowly. The paper was old and slowly turning yellow; the handwriting was beginning to fade. As he thumped through them the young man recognized several different writing styles and he wondered, as he often did, about those guardians who had come before him, what their life had been like and how they died.

As Wufei's eyes flew over the pages, O poured himself another cup of tea and waited patiently.

###

Duo Maxwell cringed as he recognized the phone number displayed on his cell phone screen. He had been dreading this call.

_Maybe I could ask Phil to pick up and tell him I moved out of town. Or better yet, I could just move out of town,_ he thought in grim humor. He let the phone ring twice more, than sighed and hit the answer button.

"Yeah."

"Hey, Duo. It's Milliardo."

"Oh hi, Milliardo. How is it going? Did you watch the game last night? Have you ever seen anything like it? That was something, wasn't it?"

He could almost see the man at the other end of the line frown. "Last night I was at the bar, remember. And so were you."

"Yeah, right. I just thought you might have recorded it or something. But then I guess not everyone is as crazy about sports as me."

"I didn't even realize you like sports."

"But I do. We really need to talk more about that some day. But I am kind of busy right now. Talk to you soon."

"Maxwell!" the other man yelled into the phone before he could hang up. "What the hell is wrong with you? Have you been smoking funny cigarettes or something? Anyway, I just wanted to make sure someone is at the Pond already, I am going to come by get my car."

"Ah, yeah, about that…" Duo cringed again. "There is a little problem you see. Your car…umm…you see…it is kind of gone."

"What?"

The young man opened his mouth to explain what had happened when someone cleared his throat behind his back. His head flew around. There in the open door to the bar stood the one person who had not expected to see again.

"Hold on Milliardo. I'll right back." _I just have to kill someone very quick._ Duo Maxwell put down his phone, glaring daggers as he walked toward the other man.

"Yuy," he growled. "Where the hell have you been?"

Heero gave an almost innocent blink. "I had something to take care off. I suppose you are angry because I borrowed your car without asking. Sorry about that. I figured I'd be back before you ever notice."

"That's not the point. Besides that isn't **my** car. Do you have the slightest idea in how much trouble we would have been if you as much as scratched that corvette? Where are the keys?"

The other man pulled the little key ring from his pocket, holding them out to Duo. But the bar owner didn't take them.

"There is a car wash at the end of the block. Take the corvette and have it cleaned, inside and out." he ordered instead. "And get back ASAP."

Still scowling Duo turned away. From his phone on the counter he could here Milliardo's voice yell his name. Reaching out he put on a smile as he picked up the device. "Sorry about that. What was it we were talking about?"

"My car! What happened to my car?"

"Nothing, why?"

"You just told me it was gone."

"Oh, no. I just meant it isn't here…right now." Duo gave a little nervous laugh. "I didn't mean to scare you. There was some construction in the parking lot this morning and the corvette got a bit dusty, so I had one of my guys take it to the car wash. You should be able to pick it up in lets say half an hour." He turned his head, realizing that Heero Yuy was still standing in the door, and threw the young man another glare. "Go! Now!" he mouthed.

"That wasn't really necessary, but thanks. Put the carwash bill on my tap, I'll pay for it next time I am in."

"Sure, no problem at all. Talk to you later."

"Later." Milliardo replied before hanging up.

Duo let out a sigh of relief. _That was close!_ If there was one thing Milliardo was serious about it was his rides. Last spring after totaling his motorcycle he had been in a terrible mood for weeks, and that hadn't even been anybody else's fault.

###

The first few reports didn't tell Wufei any more than he had already learned from Master O about the incubus, but he kept reading until he stumbled across that was new and surprising to him. The young man raised his head, his brows furrowed into a frown.

"He is a Lilin?"

A Lilin was an offspring directly related to Lilith, the first known succubus and Adams first wife, who left Eden after seducing the Archangel Samael. The bloodline had long been muddled and true Lilin were rare, but the few that still existed were known too be the most powerful demons of their kind.

"Do you understand now why I think it would be wise for you to avoid any confrontation with him?" Master O asked seriously.

Wufei's frown grew into a scowl. "When I became a guardian I took an oath, and when I was assigned to watch over Milliardo I swore to protect him." he said. "I can not and will not stand by and let any demon harm him."

"And I am not saying you should. I just want you to use caution and be mindful. Recklessness will accomplish little. I have seen too many guardians perish in my time."

The young man nodded in quiet acknowledgement. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, and I won't go seeking him out to challenge him. But if he forces my hand I won't stay down either," he declared, expecting at least some kind of argument. But the other man just sighed and remained silent. Wufei frowned.

"You are worried about something, Master O, aren't you?"

"It troubles me that he has shown up right now, right here," the older man admitted.

"Do you think they know…?"

"It would be rather arrogant…and foolish to assume that we are the only ones aware of the oracle's prophecy. No, I am quite sure the demon realm knows about it. However, the fact that nobody has come yet after Milliardo shows that we have done an excellent job shielding him. And with the ancestor's good grace we will be able to do so until the day he will be able to protect himself."

"Maybe it's time for Milliardo to learn the truth."

Master O considered the question seriously, then he shook his head firmly. "Absolutely not.. It's still too early. He isn't ready yet."

"Ready or not, the wheels are already in motion, and you know it as well as I do." Wufei pointed out. "The seal I weakening and he is using his powers, intentionally or not. If I can feel it so can others. Would you rather have Milliardo learn the truth from us, or will we wait until someone tells him."

The older man finally gave another sigh and nodded. "Very well, Guardian Chang. Milliardo is your responsibly; you know him better than anyone. I will leave it to you to decide when and how much to tell him."

"Thank you, Master O." Wufei inclined his head.

"Is there anything else you wish to talk about?"

"No, that's all."

"Alright then." O nodded at the young man. "Go get changed, it would be bad form for my top pupil to be late for class."

"Yes, Sir."

The young man was almost on the door but held his step when Master O called his name.

"Wufei, you are a fine guardian and an excellent warrior. But I have seen too many fine guardians perish during my lifetime already. I would rather not have to add your name to that list as well." The older man told him in a calm but serious voice. "And there is one more thing you should know about Treize Khushrenada."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 5**

As usual, the entrance to the 'Serene Rose' were still locked when Treize Khushrenada pulled up in front of the posh spa and massage parlor, and as usual the incubus prince was dressed as though he had just stepped out of one of the most stylish fashion magazines.

He rapped on one of the large glass doors, and moments later a tall, dark-haired man appeared to let him in. Pulling off his black driving gloves, Treize handed them off to the man along with his car keys.

"Any news, Nichols?"

The other man shook his head. "Not really, my Prince."

Treize's head snapped around. "I told you not to call me that, unless we have absolute privacy," he admonished.

Nichols dropped his gaze. "Forgive me."

Dismissing the apology with a hand gesture, the incubus walked into the lobby where a couple of his employees were getting the salon ready for opening.

The "Serene Rose" was one of four beauty spas owned by Treize Khushrenada, but was by far the largest and most elegant one; at least for the moment. By the end of next month Treize was planning on opening yet another, larger spa, the second one here in Orange County. The expansions were necessary, not only to accommodate his developing clientele, but more importantly to take care of his constantly growing army of followers. Since his departure from the demon realm, a number of, especially younger, incubi had decided to break with what they considered ancient and outdated traditions and join him. Keeping them all under control and fed was no small task.

So, opening a spa franchise really seemed like an ingenious idea. After all, beauty and vanity were timeless, Everyone liked to be attractive, feel special and pampered. An incubus was nothing if not sensual. Being alluring and enticing came as natural to their kind as chasing after mice came to a cat.

A relaxing facial or a gentle massage by an attractive young stud...a charming smile...a few harmless flirtations... and nobody really cared that they paid with a little more than just money for those services. As long as no one got hurt, it was a win / win situation, really.

The dark-haired incubus waved for a young man who was arranging magazines on one of the glass tables in the lobby and handed the car keys off to him.

"Take it to the car wash and then park it in the back," he ordered, before hurrying to catch up with his master.

Letting his gaze wander over Treize's tall figure a soft smile formed around his lips. The fact that the incubus prince had spent a sleepless night in the driver seat of his car didn't show, but that he had recently fed was obvious... by the healthy color of his skin and the glow in his eyes.

"How was your night?"

"Interesting, to say the least." Treize, too, was smiling as he turned his head toward him. "I shall tell you about it, some day, when we have more time. Do I have anything on my calendar today?"

"A meeting with the interior designer," Nichols told him. "He wants to meet to show you a portfolio of some paintings for the new spa. I took the liberty of setting up an appointment for 2:30."

Treize nodded as he checked his watch. "Excellent. Let me know when he gets here."

With those words he stepped through another glass door that separated the lobby from an area reserved for personal use only.

"Umm...speaking of appointments..." Nichols stopped the older man before he could disappear into his office. "We are pretty much booked solid for this afternoon. I really could use André; there are three clients who asked for him specifically."

Holding his step the incubus prince turned his head.

"He isn't in yet? Oh...!" Suddenly realization seemed to hit and his gaze shifted toward the end of the hall, where a curved staircase led to the small studio apartment upstairs. "I'll be sure to send him down," Treize promised.

####

"Yeeha!"

The attack caught Wufei completely off guard, and he barely managed to dodge it. A second kick, aimed at his mid-section followed almost instantly. He crossed his arms in front of his body to catch the worse of the impact. Still, the blow nearly knocked him off his feed. As he stumbled backwards, the young man shook his head to clear his mind. He had little time to catch his breath before his opponent attacked again.

Suddenly Master O raised his hand stopping the fight.

"What's wrong with you today, Wufei? Where is your head? You are not paying any attention to your opponent at all."

"I'm sorry." Wufei made no excuse.

The older man gave a quiet sigh. "Cool down and hit the shower. We will try this again tomorrow," he ordered. "Wong pair up with Edward for the rest of class."

Under other circumstances Wufei would have protested about having to end a fight before it was over, but Master O was right; his head just wasn't in it today.

He bowed to his slightly older opponent, then walked away, finding himself a free area on the mat to cool down. As he went through a series of slow exercises and stretches, he could feel Master O's eyes trained on him.

Was the Master worried about him? Sure, Wufei was young, but no younger than other Guardians had been throughout history. Besides, as a member of the Long clan he had been prepared for this job since the day he was born. He probably have had more training than many guardians twice his age.

Maybe it's that incubus prince he is concerned about, Wufei thought as he rose to his feet. When the young man stepped off the mat he stopped briefly, put his hands together and bowed again before heading for the locker room.

A few minutes later the steam from the running water was filling the small shower room. Wufei closed his eyes as he let the hot jet massage his tense shoulders. His mind once again went back to the conversation between him and Master O earlier that day.

:::Begin Flashback:::

_"There is one more thing you should know about Treize Khushrenada."_

_"There is?" Wufei asked curiously._

_"According to rumors it is quite possible that he is in possession of the __**Demon Blade**__."_

_"You mean THE __**Demon Blade**__...The sword said to have been given to Lilith by Archangel Samael himself?" If Wufei remembered correctly it was said to have passed down through the Lilin bloodline until it disappeared from the guardian's history at least half a millennia ago. _

_The older man nodded, seriously._

_"It didn't look like he was carrying any kind of weapon." _

_"The Demon Blade is pure energy. A mere mortal would not notice it's presence until the bearer chooses to activate it." O pointed out._

_Wufei's brows knitted in concentration. _

_"What makes you think he has the sword? I thought it had been lost long ago."_

_"Perhaps not lost, but only hidden for the right time and the right wielder to be born. Be mindful, Wufei. I would hate to lose a fine guardian like you due to pure carelessness."_

_::: End Flashback:::_

_Why do I have the feeling that something is brewing..._ Wufei mused as he turned off the shower. _...something like a big storm on the horizon, one can feel in the air long before the first clouds move in._

With a towel wrapped around his hips the young man walked into the locker room, more convinced than ever that it was time for Milliardo to learn the truth about his legacy and destiny.

####

As he punched his security code into the little keypad next to the door, Treize could hear the quiet click of the lock disengaging. The door swung open to reveal a large room with a chocolate colored settee set beneath the east facing windows and a king size bed against the opposite wall.

Beneath the thin silk sheets the figure of a young man slept curled up in the center of the bed. As the sleeper stirred the sheets shifted, revealing golden tanned skin, exquisitely formed legs and a long golden chain connecting a slender ankle to one of the bed-posts.

"André!"

The young man blinked as he raised his head. His gaze went to the window then toward Treize still standing by the door.

"What time is it?" André yawned.

"Almost noon."

"I waited all night. You said you would be back." As the young man pushed himself up the sheets slipped off the bed. He made no attempt whatsoever to cover himself.

"Did I?" Pulling a small key from his pocket Treize settled down on the edge of the bed to unlock the chain from André's ankle. "I got distracted. It's been a long night."

"Hmph."

"I'm sorry." Gently he ran his thumb across the marks left by the metal manacle. "Are you hungry?"

The other incubus nearly purred.

"Starving." A seductive smirk curved his lips.

"Excellent. Nichols set up three appointments for you from what I understand. Go, take a shower and get ready."

The smirk fell from his face, replaced by a pout. André reached for the incubus prince before he could pull away. His arms encircled the older man from behind and he breathed a soft kiss against the nape of his neck.

"Not even a little..."

Treize closed his eyes briefly as a gentle warmth started to spread through his body. He could smell sweat, sex and a hint of his own cologne on the other man's skin.

André was handsome, he was charming and witty, and he could do the most incredible things with his hands. Not to mention, he spoke with the sexiest French accent - even if it was as fake as a 50 dollar Gucci handbag. No wonder he was one of the most requested masseurs at the salon.

Under other circumstances Treize would have been tempted to give in, but at the moment he was still too sated to care. So he brushed off those slender arms and rose to his feet.

"Take a shower and get dressed," he ordered. "Before I throw you out butt-naked."

André's pout deepened as he threw back his head, slipped from the bed and disappeared into the adjacent bathroom without another word.

####

"I'm off!" Throwing one strap of his backpack over one shoulder, Quatre reached for the dog leash and his car keys hanging from a hook in the entrance hall. He didn't have to call for Triton. The puppy was already waiting by the door.

"Where to?" his sister's voice came from the library, where she was cleaning up the mess left behind by their niece and nephew.

"Work."

"Work?!" Damya's head appeared in the door. "I thought you were off on Wednesdays."

"I am, normally. But I switched shifts to take off Saturday for the 'Hope Ball'."

"Speaking of which. Father wanted me to remind you to get a haircut."

"Again? I just had one, didn't I?"

"That was six weeks ago," the young woman laughed. "Have you looked into a mirror lately?"

Quatre grumbled something that didn't sound very pleased. His older sister could only shake her head.

"I don't get it, it must be a guy thing. I LOVE getting my hair done. In fact I'm going to, tomorrow. And afterward a friend and I are going to get pampered. Can you believe she managed to score a appointment at the Serene Rose?"

"Sounds kinky. What is it, a S&M club? If so, I'm coming, too."

"Quatre!" She slapped at him playfully with the dusting cloth in her hand and gave him a look of feigned shock. "Are you even old enough to know what those letters stand for? And for your information, it's a beauty and massage spa. THE place to go to these days. They are usually booked solid for weeks ahead."

"Then how did you get in?"

"A friend of a friend of a friend had to cancel. Don't tell Father, but all the employs there are guys. They make the Chippendale dancers look like ugly ducklings from what I hear."

"Really?" Quatre grinned. "Maybe I should come, too."

The words had barely left his mouth when Triton yipped at him and nipped at the bottom of his jeans.

"Hey, what was that for?" the young man scowled at the dog as he pulled his leg away.

"Maybe he is jealous," Damya teased. "In any case, you'll probably meet the owner of the 'Serene Rose' at the ball this weekend. I saw his name on the invitation list."

"Seriously? Is he anyone famous?"

"I don't know about that," she shrugged. "But I've heard he is pretty generous when it comes to charities, though. And I did do a little research. You know, his family tree makes ours look like a little sapling."

Triton gave another bark, louder and more forceful this time.

"He is probably right, I need to go," Quatre sighed. "Can't afford to be late again. See you tonight."

"Have a nice day," his sister called after him. "And remember the haircut."

"Yes, mother." He threw a last grin back over his shoulder before finally closing the door behind himself.

####

"I am sorry." Heero could tell the braided young man was anything but pleased when he handed him the keys to the corvette which he had borrowed earlier. The vehicle stood now freshly washed, waxed and polished in the parking lot. "I didn't realize it wasn't your car."

"If it was my car or not is not the point." Duo glared at him from over a freshly polished shot glass. "It wasn't YOURS to take."

"I know, but I had to be somewhere. And I figured I'd be back before you would ever notice."

"That's not the point either." Still grumbling Duo reached under the bar, pulled the plastic liner from a large stainless-steel trashcan, tied it close and handed it over to Heero.

The young man looked puzzled at the trash bag then at the bar owner, crooking his head questioningly.

"There is a dumpster in the alley out back," Duo explained. "Take the garbage from the kitchen, too. And when you are done with that you can help me take down the chairs. - I might have a soft spot for strays, but I'm not a sucker. You are welcome to stay here for a while. I can offer you the couch and something to eat, but you will have to work for it."

After only a brief moment of hesitation Heero nodded. "Understood," he agreed

As the young man walked out the back door to find the trash dumpster he could feel Duo's eyes following him.

####

A knock at the door roused Treize Khushrenada from deep meditation. Ice blue eyes opened slowly, reluctantly.

"Come in!"

The incubus prince was sitting on the carpet, wearing nothing but a pair of tan slacks when Nichols entered the apartment.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Sir, but you wanted to know when the interior designer arrived."

Treize nodded . "Thank you. I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."

Although it was a clear dismissal Nichols did not move. Instead his eyes went to the open wall safe, usually hidden behind a painting by Beyeren, then to the slim, almost Spartan looking sword lying on the floor next to the incubus.

Nichols knew Treize kept the Demon Blade always nearby, but it had been a very long time since he has seen him actually carry it. In the beginning, when headhunters lined up a dime a dozen trying to earn themselves the reward offered by Lord Khushrenada, the blade had seen a lot of action. Lately, however, fewer and fewer mercenaries seemed willing to risk their life for the prize.

"Is something the matter?"

"I was just about to ask the same." The dark-haired incubus thrust his chin toward the ancient sword. "Did something happen I don't know about?"

"Nothing you to concern need yourself with." Smoothly Treize rose to his feet. "I just had a little run in with a Long guardian last night."

"Here in town?" Nichols drew a sharp breath. "I assume you escaped unharmed?"

"It was actually a rather...civilized meeting." The other man walked to the wall safe, closed it and hung the painting back in place. "We both walked away without a fight."

"Then why the weapon?"

"Because...," Treize paused briefly, thoughtfully. "I'm not certain that out next meeting will end as civilized."

"But you are certain there will be a next meeting?"

"It may not be avoidable. - Which reminds me..." The tall, tawny haired man threw a look back over his shoulder as he pushed apart the doors to his closet. "There is something I want you to do for me."

"My prince?!"

For decades Nichols had been Treize's closest confident, his right hand so to speak, as well as his eyes and his ears. His family had served the Khushrenada house for generations, and the two of them had been side by side since the day Treize had fled the family residence, and the demon realm. Since then he and had proven himself trustworthy and reliable in many ways.

"I want you to find out everything you can about a Wufei Chang and a Milliardo Peacecraft."

"Two guardians?" Nichols asked.

The incubus prince shook his head as he pulled a shirt of a deep red color from its hanger and slipped it on.

"Only the first," he replied. "As for the other. I'm not sure who or what he is. But I haven't sensed such hidden powers in a very long time."

"Where did you meet them, if I may ask?"

"Have you heard of a bar called the Rainbow Pond?"

"I can't say I have."

_That doesn't surprise me._ Treize had to admit, for a Incubus, Nichols actually led a rather dull life.

"I came across it last night rather by accident. It is a...fascinating little place." he explained as he slowly buttoned his shirt. "I swear I could make out no less than half a dozen kinds of demon in the crowd, as well as a number of humans."

"Demons and humans mingling...?" the other man asked surprised.

"Well, they weren't exactly holding hands and singing Kumbaya, but they weren't trying to kill one another either. As I said, a fascinating place, and a bit puzzling too. One more reason to find out what we can about those two."

"I'll get right on it."

"Oh, by the way... how is Sebastian doing?"

Nichols mouth turned into a thin line. "He will survive."

Either Treize didn't notice the terse tone in his aid's voice or he simply chose to ignore it.

"Excellent," he replied. "When he is ready I want you to bring him to the salon and show him the ropes. Eventually I want him to take over your duties here at the 'Serene Rose'."

The other man opened his mouth, but before he could protest Treize stopped him.

"Don't worry, you are not being replaced, only promoted. I will need someone... someone who I trust completely... to manage the 'Gilded Rose' after it's opening."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then what is it?"

"May I speak freely?"

"Don't you always?" There was an almost amused tone in the incubus's voice.

"I wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me that you were meeting with Sebastian von Ranzow. "

"It was a spur of the moment decision. I had no time to contact you."

"You are being too careless, my prince," Nichols admonished. "It could have been a trap."

"It could have been." Treize admitted. "It might have been. But it was worth the risk."

The von Ranzow family was one of the oldest housed within the incubus court, almost as old and influential as the Khushrenada house. It was a fact that many of Treize's followers came from lower class families, and having someone of the lineage and prestige of a von Ranzow, even if only the youngest son, in his ranks could make a significant difference. So when he learned of Sebastian's planned 'defection' the incubus prince did not hesitate to provide the aid he requested. Unfortunately things did not go as smooth as he had hoped for, when Christian von Ranzow, Sebastian oldest brother and heir to the house of von Ranzow, showed up at the scene. Apparently he too, had learned of his brother's plans, and had orders to stop him at any means.

"You really trust him?" Nichols asked.

Treize shrugged. "I might have had some reservations, but the fact that Christian almost killed him and that he was willing to take his brother's life should be proof of how serious he is. However, I will be keeping my eyes on him, and if he turns out to be a traitor I will kill him myself. Anything else?"

"No, my Prince."

"Well then, shall we go and see the interior decorator?"

In front of the large dressing mirror smoothed out his outfit. Giving the sleeves one last tug he studied his reflection critically, making sure he looked his best before following Nichols downstairs.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note: As I mentioned before many of my story plots are inspired by music I'm listening too. The Blood Ties plot is no different. I was motivated to write something in a mysterious and somewhat darker setting by several songs by Juliane Werding, Not sure how many know her or her music, but she is a German artist and to me her songs are always like wonderful stories in themselves.  
>The main idea of an incubus story came from "Der Shatten malt den Teufel an die Wand" (The shadow paints the devil on the wall), the werewolf theme came from "Wölfe in der Nacht" (Wolves by night) I also borrowed the name of the Werewolf hunter organization 'Schwarze Jäger' from that song. I also found "Wustensohn" (son of the desert) and "Avalon" (well, Avalon) inspiring for other parts of the story, which I don't want to reveal yet since that would give away a bit too much of the plot.<p>

Anyway, if you can find her songs (there are some on that music site that starts with Y but actually sounds like U) I would encourage you to listen to them, especially if you understand German. Don't worry it won't spoil the plot. The fic was only inspired by the songs it's not a songfig.


	6. Chapter 6

**Blood Ties**

**Chapter 6**

Quatre checked his watch as he left the Laguna Freeway and turned onto the toll road. In the passenger seat beside him, Trowa, now in human form, looked out of the window.

As they headed north the scenery changed, rocky canyons turned into flat farmland and suburban neighborhoods. Not too long ago this area had been nothing but orange groves as far as the eye could see.

"What is that 'Hope Ball' you and your sister were talking about?"

It had been so quiet in the car for so long, and he had been so absorbed in his thoughts, the sudden question almost startled Quatre.

"What?"

"The Hope Ball," Trowa repeated. "You and your family have been mentioning it a lot lately."

"Oh! It's an annual charity event held at the Winner manor," the other youth explained.

Ever since he was old enough to understand the meaning of charity his parents and grandparents had instilled in him the responsibility of helping those less fortunate. The Winner family participated in a number of fundraisers each year, but the 'Hope Ball' was by far the largest and best known event. It was a dinner and dance party hosted at the family mansion, with all the pomp and glamour one could expect from such an affair. Tickets for the ball sold for as much as five figures, and all the proceeds went to a different charity every year.

Quatre's mother used to be very involved in the event. And after her death it had also become a way for the family of remembering and honoring her.

"You should come. It will be fun."

"Only if you promise you are not going to make me wear a bow again."

"That wasn't my idea, remember. It was Izza's," Quatre laughed as he recalled Christmas Eve when his sister had dressed the puppy in a big red and gold bow. "But you did look cute."

"I looked ridiculous," Trowa nearly growled.

"Fine, fine. No more bows, I promise," the other youth chuckled. "But since we are speaking of looks. I'd truly like to know what you really look like."

"Trust me, you don't," the demon replied.

"But if I demanded of you to turn into your true form, you would have to do it, wouldn't you?"

"I'd have no choice," Trowa confirmed after a moment of hesitation.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do it. I was just curious."

Quatre had left the freeway and was heading down 21st street. The little used bookstore he was working at was located in an industrial neighborhood. It was the kind of area one would associate with high crime; where gang members, drug dealers and far worse hung out at night. It wasn't the place any normal person would take a walk after dark... or park a $100 000 sports car on the street, for that matter. The one and only time he had been foolish enough to do so, Quatre had lost 3 of his hub caps, along with the car stereo and the little good luck charm that hung from his rearview mirror. Now he was smart enough to leave the car at a secured parking garage on 5th street and walk from there or take the bus to the store.

As they stepped out of the parking garage into the bright afternoon sun, Quatre checked the time again. It was nearly 2:45. His shift started at 3:00. It was only a few blocks to the store, but they would never make it on foot. Luckily, just then the 97 bus came around the corner.

"You think we can catch it?"

The young man started to run. Beside him, Trowa fell into pace. They made it to the bus stop just in time.

"How much is it?" Quatre panted, trying to catch his breath.

"1.75," the driver told him in the monotone voice of someone who had to repeat the same answer too many times.

"Thanks."

As he searched his pockets for a few stray quarters, Trowa pushed his way past him, pulled out a little red and blue plastic card and slid it through the fare-reader.

_What the..._ Quatre threw him a baffled look. _Why would a demon be carrying a bus pass?_

Trowa simply shrugged and made his way deeper into the bus. Having finally found enough coins Quatre paid as well and followed him. There was standing room only. He held on to one of the overhead rails as the bus started to move. After a block or so they stopped again to take on more passengers.

It was getting rather crowded. The young man took a deep breath and closed his eyes momentarily. Suddenly he remembered why he hated public transportation... or any place for that matter where too many people gathered in a small space.

No, he was **not** claustrophobic; that would have probably been easier to deal with.

As a child Quatre had grown up normal, or as normal as it could be expected for the heir to the Winner fortune. It wasn't until he was in his early teens that that had changed. Gradually things started to happen, things that as far as he knew didn't have anything to do with puberty. He began sensing emotions that were not just his own, and it didn't take long until he realized that he was able to pick up on the feeling of those around him. Hence, his reluctance to share small spaces with large numbers of people. But that wasn't the worst of it. He also began seeing things that he had never noticed before... things that scared him...terribly.

At first he had thought he was slowly going mad, but he had been too terrified to talk to his father or anyone else about it. Until one day he came across an old diary left to him by his mother. To tell the truth, he had always wondered why she had left it to him, and not to one of his sisters, considering that diaries were much more of a ...girly thing. But when he started reading it he realized that she had possessed the same 'gift' as he. Yes, she had called it a gift, he wasn't so sure about that. But at least her entries helped him to understand things a little better. He wasn't crazy; he was just... different.

There really **were** creatures out there that seemed to have come straight out of old world nursery rhymes, or from the imagination of someone with a very disturbed mind; demons that fed on fear and on pain...pleasure and lust... Not a pretty idea. No wonder most people rather would close their eyes and their minds to that possibility, put their heads into the sand and hoped that what they didn't know couldn't hurt them.

Of course, Quatre didn't have that choice. But once the discovery was made he was eager to learn more. He started by practically devouring the collection of books he found amongst his late mother's possessions. But in the end that only had left him with more questions than answers.

The bus approached their stop, Trowa pressed the button that signaled the driver that they wanted to get off. Quatre pushed his way toward the door, breathing a silent sigh of relief when he finally stood on the sidewalk.

####

Sylvia Noventa looked around the room she had been asked to wait in. It was an office, no doubt. But it was decorated with such style and luxury that it created a very serene and relaxing atmosphere. There were a few paintings on the walls, still lifes by an artist she wasn't familiar with, and a few decorations on the rosewood desk. But there were no personal possessions, no family pictures or objects of that kind; not even as much as the photo of a pet.

The young woman tried to recall what she knew about her client. He was wealthy, he was very demanding and difficult to please. At least that's what she had gathered from conversations she picked up between her colleagues. He had fired no less than three interior decorators when he set up this business, but in the end the project had come with a 7 figure price tag. No wonder her firm was eager to get the man's business again, even if none of the established designers wanted to deal with him. She had no illusions about it, someone as young and inexperienced as herself only got an assignment the like of this because nobody else wanted it.

_Seven figures, _she thought dreamily. _The commission on a project like that would pay for a big portion of my student loans. Of course, that is if I don't mess up._

She was so tense she nearly jumped when the door behind her opened.

"Mister Khushrenada?!"

Sylvia rose to her feet to greet him, nearly reaching out to shake hands before she remembered at the last moment what she had been told by her colleague.

_"...remember, he is a little eccentric. And he doesn't like to touch people. Probably some kind of OCD. But hey, a poor nut is a nut, a rich nut is a rich, right?..." _

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," the tall, handsome man replied smoothly, as he stepped toward her, took her hand and placed the ghost of a kiss only her fingertips. "Forgive me for making you wait."

"Oh, it's nothing." The young woman nearly swooned. Her heart was beating so hard she was afraid he could hear it. "I'm sure you are a very busy man. Thank you taking the time to meet with me."

He gestured at her chair as he walked around the large, impressive looking desk and settled down.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, Miss...?!"

"Noventa. Sylvia Noventa," the young woman replied.

"Can I get you some more iced tea, Miss Noventa?"

"Oh no, I'm fine thank you." She had barely touched the glass she had been served when she arrived.

"Very well then. My assistant told me you have some pictures for me to look at."

"Ah, yes." She jumped up to hand him the portfolio, nearly spilling the hibiscus tea in the process.

He smiled at her softly, reassuringly.

"Relax, Miss Noventa. I don't eat designers; not on Wednesdays anyway."

Sylvia smiled back politely and somewhat nervously.

Treize Khushrenada opened the binder... and raised one eyebrow.

"Splatter paintings?!"

She kicked herself mentally. _I knew it. I should have taken those out the moment I saw his office. It's just not his style._

He seemed to be reading her mind.

"I do have one of those, at home in my bathroom. It was painted by a monkey at the Brooklyn Zoo. I won it in a poker game, if I recall correctly."

"Against the monkey?" The words escaped her without even thinking and before she could stop herself.

Treize took it the way it was meant and laughed.

"I think I would have remembered that."

_I'm not sure what everyone is talking about. He is rather charming... and not to mention absolutely hot. _

He turned a few more pages, past some still lifes he found too boring until he reached a couple of paintings by a modern expressionist which he claimed would make excellent Rorschachs on a psychiatrist's wall. Treize didn't seem to like abstract art any more.

"We are trying hard to help our clients relax, not give them nightmares," he remarked tongue in cheek.

In the end Treize didn't seem too impressed with any of the paintings but he selected a few to give them more consideration.

"Maybe if you can tell me what style or give me the name of an artist you prefer I can find something more suited," she suggested as he handed the portfolio back to her.

###

When she put the binder back into her attaché case Treize noticed a second portfolio slightly thinner and darker in color.

"You have more?"

"Oh, those, no these are drawings done by students at the college for Arts and Architecture. A friend of mine owns a small art gallery. He is always looking for items by upcoming local artists. I don't think it would be anything you are interested in.

"May I take a look anyway?"

"Umm, yes of course."

She handed him the binder and he thanked her with a nod. It was a wide variety of techniques done in various styles. Several of the pictures showed real promise, but Treize's interest wasn't roused until he came across the portrait of a young woman. It was a pencil sketch on cardboard. The model was in her early twenties. She had short dark hair and resolute eyes. Her face had an expression of determination, as though she had just made an important decision.

When he took the picture from the sleeve and turned it over there was only one word scribbled onto the back.

"Noin?" Treize frowned, but assuming that someone just had misspelled the German word neun, which meant nine, he asked:

"Does that mean there are at least eight others?"

"Ah... no actually it's the name of the picture. The girl is Lucrezia Noin; she majored in graphic design. It's not unusual for students to model for one another."

"Lucrezia, you say?"

"But most everyone calls her Noin. She said Lucrezia sounds so... old-fashioned," Sylvia Noventa explained.

"Really, I think it is a rather interesting name. But then some might consider me old-fashioned as well." Treize shrugged."Say, you wouldn't know who the artist was, would you?"

"I can look it up; give me one second." She pulled out a small tablet and turned it on. After a few moments of typing the young woman looked up at him.

"It was done by a student named Peacecraft..."

"Milliardo Peacecraft?" Treize asked, surprised.

"You know him?"

"I heard the name before," he lied, never even batting an eyelid. "You wouldn't happen to know if the picture is for sale, would you?"

"I'm not sure. But I can find out."

"Would you? But please, don't mention my name when you do."

She nodded. It was not an unusual request. Many art collectors bought their pieces anonymously, through third party buyers.

####

The bookstore was located in the back of an old juice factory. Quatre assumed that at one point it might have been an office and storage building. He still remembered the day when he came here for the very first time.

What had led him to this place was a note he had found in one of his mother's books; just a small index card really, with an address on it and the name 'Howard's'. Curiously he had decided to find out if the address still existed, and what it was. So, one day he had skipped PE class and hopped onto the mid-town bus...

_:::Begin Flashback:::_

_Checking the address on the small card once again Quatre wondered if this really was the place he was looking for. The building looked old and abandoned, but when he looked a bit closer he finally found signs of life in the back. He saw lights behind a glass door, and a notice announcing boldly "__**We are OPEN**__". Above the door was a old-fashioned store sign._

_"Howard's Antique and Used Books"_

_The young man frowned. A bookstore in a place like this? Maybe this was where his mother had bought her reading materials. He had been wondering about that. The library just didn't seem the right place to find books about demons and such. _

_Slowly and hesitantly Quatre climbed up the three steps to the entrance. A bell, hanging above the door, chimed when he entered. There was nobody in the store, at least not as far as he could see. _

_The two small windows in front, and the dim ceiling lights draped the room into a muted light. That, combined with the musky scent of old books created an almost eerie atmosphere. As he made his way through the store the young man let his gaze wander over shelves and shelves filled with books; books about demons and various otherworldly creatures, about witchcraft and wizardry, charms and spells... Everything neatly sorted by name and subject._

_Quatre pulled a leather-bound encyclopedia from one of the shelves and settled down on one a nearby stepstool, and in silent amazement started to thumb through the thick book. _

_"This isn't a library, you know. If you want to read that book, buy it first." _

_The young man nearly dropped the book as he jumped to his feet. Behind him stood a man, probably in his late 50's, with gray hair and a mustache of the same color. Quatre wasn't sure what startled him more, the stranger's sudden appearance or the bright red Hawaiian shirt he was sporting. _

_"You are planning on buying that?" the man repeated._

_"Umm..." Quatre cleared his throat. "How much is it?"_

_"It's a first edition, I can let you have it for ...hmmm... 175."_

_"Dollar?"_

_"Well, I'm not dealing in gumballs, kid. Of course dollars. If you want something cheaper check the bargain bin over there." The older man gestured at a large cardboard box filled to the top with unsorted books._

_"No," Quatre shook his head. "I'll take it. Can I have you hold it while I look around some more?"_

_"Be my guest," the store owner replied. His mood seemed to have improved considerably now that he knew he was dealing with an actual paying costumer._

_Just then a dark orange tabby, about the size of a German Shepherd, strolled through the store toward them. The cat approached Quatre, rubbing it's head against the young man legs as it started to purr loudly._

_Quatre smiled as he squatted down to pet the animal. His eyes fell upon a beautiful leather collar around the cat's neck. The band was decorated with gemstones and embossed with golden symbols that looked like ancient runes. _

_"Aren't you the pretty one." The young man looked up. "What's her name."_

_"Oscar," the store owner replied dryly. "He seems to like you. Usually he is rather antisocial."_

_As he made his way through the store Oscar followed the young man for a short while, until he got bored with the game, found himself a sunny place in the window and settled down for a good cleaning and a nap. Another thirty minutes or so later Quatre had picked two more books and made his way to the counter. _

_"Umm... are you Howard?" he asked carefully while he waited for the other man to ring them up."_

_"I hope so, I'm wearing his underwear. That's 211. 95; make it $200 and consider it a new customer discount."_

_"Thanks," the young man pulled out his wallet. "You take a credit card?"_

_Howard eyed him suspiciously._

_"Is it yours?"_

_"Of course." As he handed the card along with his ID over, Quatre looked up. "I think you might have known my mother."_

_The older man looked at him strangely and he suddenly realized how weird the question had sounded._

_"Umm...what I mean is... I think she used to come here. I discovered your store's address in an old book of hers."_

_"Is that so? I was wondering how someone like you found this place." Howard scratched his chin. "What's her name? I'm pretty good remembering names. If she came here more than once we might have talked."_

_" Quaterine. Quaterine Winner," the young man replied._

_"Sorry, never heard of her," the store owner shook his head, way too fast for Quatre's taste. But why would he lie?_

_"Well, thanks anyway."_

_The young man grabbed the plain white plastic bag and headed out the door. But when he was just about to walk away he saw a white cardboard sign that he hadn't noticed before in one of the windows._

_**HELP Wanted! Inquire inside.**_

_After a brief moment of hesitation Quatre turned on his heels and headed back into the store. Howard, still behind the cash register, looked up at the chime of the door bell. _

_"Forgot something?"_

_"About that job you are offering... What are the hours?"_

_::: End Flashback :::_

That was almost three years ago. And the rest...well, the rest is history as they say. Telling his father that he had decided to take a part time job after school was easy, explaining that the job was in an run-down used bookstore a whole different story altogether.

"I'll see you tonight."

Trowa held his step as they approached the store entrance. He never actually had entered the place, and although Quatre was curious as to the reason, he never asked. Instead he just nodded.

"Right; 6:30 as usually."

"I know."

Quatre watched as the other youth slowly walked away; wondering how Trowa spent those hours when he was alone and where he went after dropping him off at work. But he had promised to never follow him, and that was a promise he intended to keep. As Trowa disappeared around the corner the young man finally opened the door to the bookstore.

"It's me!" he called out over the chiming of the bell.

Howard was, as usual, in the back room. Oscar jumped down from his perch on one of the highest bookshelves to greet Quatre, or more likely to get his daily treat.

"Hey there, how are you today?"

The large cat rubbed his head against the young man's leg as Quatre reached into the jar with the Munchies beneath the counter. A deep rumbling purr formed in his chest as he accepted the salmon flavored treat and devoured it within seconds.

Large amber colored eyes looked up expectantly once he was finished.

"Sorry, no more." Quatre laughed. "You know the rule, one a day only."

"That's right!" Howard confirmed as he walked into the store. He was still wearing his outdated, outrageously colorful Hawaiian shirts. "He is getting too chubby already. One of these days he isn't going to fit through his cat door anymore."

"Set a couple of mice free in the store." Quatre suggested jokingly. "That will give him something to do and keep him in shape."

"I don't think that idea is any better than the kitty treadmill you suggested last week. Listen, Kid, I've got to be somewhere. You can mind the store for an hour or so?"

"No problem." It wasn't the first time he had been alone.

"Are you sure?"

Quatre nearly rolled his eyes. "Positive. And if for any reason we are suddenly overrun by a flood of book crazy shoppers, I'll send smoke signs...or you could just get a cell phone like any normal person," he suggested cheekily.

"Why would I do that? I have lived very well without one for almost 60 years."

"People lived without electricity for hundreds of years, but that doesn't mean I want to go back to wood-fired stoves and candle light," the young man pointed out.

"Oh chitchat... don't you have anything to do? There are books to be sorted," Howard grumbled. He always grumbled when he was losing an argument.

"Yes Sir."

####

"I'm back!"

Slipping off his shoes by the door, Wufei dropped the duffle bag with his martial arts gear next to them. After leaving the dojo, he had been driving around for a couple of hours trying to prepare himself for the unavoidable conversation with Milliardo. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but it had to be done sooner rather than later.

"Wufei?! In here." his roommate's voice came from his studio.

The young man was still dressed in his clay and paint covered jeans and the shirt he was wearing when Wufei had left. He was leaning over his large desk drawing. For some reason he never fully understood, Milliardo set down when he was working. Even while drawing and sketching, he was always on his feet.

"You have been working all day?"

Then his eyes caught the lumps and splatters of clay where Milliardo's latest art project had stood in the morning. He nearly gasped in surprise.

"You smashed the statue!"

"Decided to start over."

"But it was almost done. You have been working on it for weeks."

Milliardo shrugged. "I never fully liked it. Something was wrong with it. This one will be much better. Look!"

The young man gestured at the large pin board on the wall, already filled with sketches and pencil studies.

Wufei's gaze wandered over the white pieces of paper, and his eyes widened as he instantly recognized the figure sprawled out on what appeared to be wrinkled sheets, propped up on one elbow, and very...nude.

_By the ancestors!_

"What do you think?"

"Umm... It looks...interesting. He is..."

"Hot?" Milliardo smirked. "I know. I guess all I needed was the right inspiration. Look at that body, and those eyes. I don't think I've ever met anyone with such powerful eyes...or anyone so well hung for that matter."

Wufei cleared his throat, as he felt a slight heat creeping into his cheeks.

"Geez, Milliardo, how can you say stuff like that without even blushing."

His roommate gave another shrug. "Maybe it's the artist in me. To me the human body is a beautiful object of art."

"And pleasure." Wufei added dryly.

"Art...Pleasure." Milliardo moved his hands up and down like he was weighing those words. "You are supposed to enjoy art, enjoyment is just a different word for pleasure... so the line is rather thin, wouldn't you think?"

The younger man simply shook his head. There was no way he was going to win that argument.

"Oh, by the way... I'm afraid I need to take another rain check on that fencing lesson today," Milliardo pinned another sketch onto the cork board before turning his head.

Wufei shrugged. "I'll just add it to the big stack of other rain checks, I suppose."

"Sorry, really. It's just I have to be somewhere. I got a call from an arts dealer. Someone wants to buy one of my drawings, possibly more."

"That's great. Congratulations!" Wufei was genuinely happy for his friend. "See, putting some of your work out into the public helped. I told you, all you need is a little more exposure."

"Is that how you meant it?" Milliardo grinned. "And I thought you wanted me to work on a few more nude studies."

The younger man snorted.

"Btw, I left my car at The Rainbow Pond last night. I've got to pick it up; can you drop me off there?"

"Sure, let me know when you are ready," Wufei nodded. "I'm just going to throw a load in the washer."

"Thanks." Milliardo looked down at himself. "You think I need to change for the meeting?"

Eying the other man in his navel length T-shirt critically, Wufei gave another nod. "Positively. There is good exposure, and then there is overexposure."

The blonde laughed. "Alright, Mother."

"Btw, there is something we really need to talk about, Milliardo."

"Not now!" Milliardo made a dismissive gesture. "If this is about last night, I'm in no mood for a lecture today. - Let me jump in the shower before you turn on the washer."

As the young man headed upstairs Wufei let out a sigh of defeat. _This is going to be even more difficult than I thought._

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:

Another chapter done. Hope you enjoyed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 7**

One of the main perks of working in a bookstore, and a bookstore with very little business to be precise, was that one was able to read... a lot. Honestly, Quatre sometimes wondered how Howard could afford to pay him...or stay in business for that matter. But that wasn't really his problem, was it?

The young man was slouching over the counter, thumbing through a book of ancient spells. His work had long been done; all boxes emptied, all books neatly sorted into their respective shelves. Howard had long since returned from his outing, and was sitting as usual in his back office

Quatre suspected that he wasn't alone, because the door to the room was closed. Usually the old man only did that when he was meetings with a special 'customer'. He had noticed many strangers come and go, sometimes through the store, and sometimes through the back door that lead directly into the office. They would stay for a few minutes or for a few hours, one never knew.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to what kind of business was going on behind those closed doors, but quite frankly he was also not sure he really wanted to find out. Many of the people that came had a strange and dangerous aura about them, and Quatre was certain a good part of them were not even human.

The bell over the store entrance chimed, and the young man raised his head. Instinctively he could feel himself tense as he saw two, no three young men enter the store. They looked like trouble; and they didn't seem the kind that would be interested in antique books...or books of any kind for that matter. Dressed in dark gray trench coats and baggy pants they looked like something from a bad B-class movie.

On the top shelf of the Gothic novels rack, Oscar's favorite sleeping spot during the afternoon, the large tabby growled and hissed at the visitors.

One of the young men laughed as he walked toward the shelf.

"Boo!"

He had to jump back quickly because Oscar slapped at him with one of his clawed paws. He was an anti-social cat, perhaps, but he was usually not aggressive. Quatre had never seen him like that, up on all fours his back hunched and his fur bristled from the back of his neck all the way to the tip of his tail. Ducking his head, ears pulled back completely as he hissed again.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Quatre tried to sound as polite and impartial as he could.

The trio turned toward him as though they only just noticed.

"I don't know." The tallest of the three, slender, almost skinny looking and with dirty blond hair, stepped toward the counter. He propped one elbow onto the cherry wood surface. "Can you?"

"I don't know either. Why don't you tell me what you are looking for?"

"I think I already found it," the young man smiled as he slowly reached out. One of his fingernails scraped gently over the side of Quatre's face. "You look positively delicious."

With a glare Quatre smacked his hand away.

Suddenly and without any warning Oscar came flying off the bookshelf. He landed on the stranger's back, clawing at his shoulders and neck as he gave a terrifying hiss.

The young man hissed back, literally. His eyes turned almost black, his face a grimace of fury, as he brushed the cat off throwing him against the nearby wall. Oscar was back on his feet in a split second, growling and hissing. Instinctively Quatre reached for the baseball bat beneath the counter. Just then Howard burst through the office door.

"What's going on?"

He looked around, scowling at the three visitors.

"Get out of here!"

"Why? This is a commercial building, we have every right to be here," the tall guy replied surprisingly calm. He dabbed a few droplets of blood from the back of his neck where the cat had scratched him, and licked his fingertip.

"This is a private business, I have the right to refuse to serve you," Howard countered. "Now take your friends and leave. I won't tell you again."

"What are you going to do, Grandpa?" one of the other two men taunted. "Are you going to kick our butt?"

"Is there a problem?!" another voice, deep, smooth, and with the authority of someone demanding respect, asked.

Quatre turned his head. The voice belonged to a man standing in the door to the office; tall, well dressed with neatly trimmed tawny hair. He looked neither particularly big nor very strong, but there was something dangerous and positively deadly about him.

"No problem at all. We were just looking for a restroom."

"Find one somewhere else," the tawny-haired stranger suggested. "You look like big boys. I'm sure you can hold it."

Apparently, the three hoodlums weren't completely stupid, nor completely suicidal. Without another word, but not without another glare toward Howard, the trio shuffled out of the front door.

Quatre's eyes followed them until the door closed behind them. When he turned his head the stranger was already gone.

"Who were those guys?" The young man looked questioningly at the store owner. Or more precise, what where they?

"Don't worry about them. Quatre, why don't you close up? I don't think we will see any more serious buyers today."

The young man nodded. "Got it! ...Oh, Howard. Do you mind if I take this book home for tonight? I'd like to finish reading it."

Howard shrugged. "What is it?" he asked as he cranked his neck to get a better look at the title of the book lying on the counter.

"Wow, kid. You aren't planning on trying your hands on some spell are you?"

"Hell no." Quatre laughed. "I wouldn't even know where to start. I just find the subject interesting."

"Good...Good!" the old man seemed satisfied. "Spells and curses are not something to be meddled with, if you don't know what you are doing. There are people I know who have tried it and regretted it for the rest of their lives, or worse, didn't live long enough to regret it."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, sure, take it home, but make sure to return it when you are finished," Howard nodded as he returned into the backroom to re-join his visitor.

Once alone Quatre started looking around for Oscar, only to find the tabby back on his favorite bookshelf, grooming his silky fur as though nothing unusual had happened. The young man smiled as he dug a Munchie from the jar of treats.

"There you go. I think you deserved that."

The feline purred, pressing his head against Quatre's face as he devoured the cookie. The young man scratched him behind those velvet-soft ears.

"You are really something, you know that, Oscar?"

At the mentioning of his name the tabby looked up, and for a moment Quatre could have sworn there was something distinctly intelligent and human in those amber colored cat eyes.

Slowly, thoughtfully the young man turned away, making his way down the row of bookshelves until he found what he was looking for under "F - Familiars".

####

In the backroom of the Rainbow Pond Heero was polishing off a second bowl of Chili, arguably the best he had ever eaten. The dish had great flavor and just the right kick, without burning one's throat. The cook served it with fresh homemade tortilla chips. No wonder it was one of his signature dishes.

Phil, his real name was Felipe and he was born and raised in Mexico, was cutting tortillas for another batch of his delicious chips when Heero entered the kitchen. He looked at the young man and the empty bowl in his hands.

"More for you?"

"No, no more, thanks." Heero quickly assured him. "It was great, really. But I can't eat another bite."

The clock on the wall read 7:23, and the young man could tell dusk was beginning to fall. Not fast enough, as far as he was concerned. As he stepped out into the back alley, Heero threw a look up into the sky. He was waiting eagerly for it to be dark, so that he could head out and pick up the search that he had been forced to abandoned early in the morning. But the sun had not yet fully set. It was still too risky for him to change. The last time he had been seen in wolf form he had found himself running from animal control. Not an experience he cared to repeat. But his human senses were not nearly honed enough to pick up the trail of the man he had lost.

The young man settled down on top the wide stone steps. Not to be able to do anything but wait was frustrating to say the least.

"Beer?"

Heero turned his head. Leaning against the worn door frame was Duo, holding up one of two beer bottles in his hands.

"Sure," he nodded, and then as the other man handed him the bottle: "Thank you."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead." Heero moved slightly to make room on the step. "But don't you have to open the bar?"

"Not for another half an hour. Most of my customers don't come out of the woodwork until the moon is up," Duo replied with a grin.

_The moon!_

Heero threw another gaze skyward. It hadn't fully risen yet, but he could feel it's power already; making him restless. Apparently he was not the only one anxious. From the nearby animal sanctuary he could hear the call of a couple of coyotes. Moments later a number of wolves joined the concert. Their howls so familiar and soothing, it almost made him homesick.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Huh?" He looked at Duo questioningly.

"The night sky I mean."

"I guess." Heero took a sip from his beer bottle before looking at the other man again. After a moment of hesitation he finally asked.

"You are not human, are you?"

To his surprise Duo threw his head back and laughed. "Look who is talking. Aren't you a bit off the evolutionary chart yourself?"

"That doesn't scare you?"

"Not particularity," the young man shrugged. "But may I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why did you come here? To this town I mean?"

"I have been looking for someone."

"Did you find him?"

Heero shook his head. "Not yet. But I will even if it..." He swallowed the rest of the sentence and sniffed the air. Someone had entered the club, the scent... The young man tensed.

"Woah! Relax!" Duo grabbed him by the arm before he could jump to his feet. His grip was surprisingly strong. "That's just Charley, the bouncer."

He relaxed somewhat."Your bouncer is a vampire? You have got to be joking."

"Hell no, Vampires make excellent bouncers. Although it takes two of them to keep order on Karaoke night," Duo replied dryly, and then after a look into Heero's stunned face he burst into laughter.

"Now I **AM** joking. We don't do karaoke night."

####

Checking his watch when he left the store, Quatre realized that he was early. For a moment he considered whether he should wait out here for Trowa or go back inside. But then he pulled out his phone.

"I'm leaving. Meet me at the car," he texted.

The sun had barely set and the heat of the day hadn't yet fully dissipated. The cool evening breeze felt nice against his face as he headed down the empty street. He wasn't sure how far he had walked when he suddenly had the feeling that he wasn't alone. Slowing down, he listened into the darkness, trying to pick up the sound of footsteps. But there were none. Still the feeling of being watched remained. He was quite certain that he was being followed.

"Trowa?!" he called out quietly. "Triton? Is that you?"

No answer, and no sound at all. Quatre quickened his pace, the feeling only got stronger. He finally stopped.

"Trowa!" the young man scowled. "If this is supposed to be some kind of joke, it isn't funny. Come out, now!"

"Oh...you don't think it's funny?" Not one but two...no three figures separated themselves from the shadows and stepped into his path. The trio from earlier in the bookstore.

Quatre kicked himself mentally for not having waited for Trowa.

"Step aside and let me through," he demanded firmly.

"Sorry, can't do that," the tallest of the tree men, very obviously the leader, replied. "You didn't say please."

"Get out of my way, please!" Quatre emphasized the last word. But at the same time his right hand went into his pocket. Beneath his car keys he felt a small spray-bottle. As he wrapped his fingers around it he felt for the nozzle and the push button on top.

The tall goon just laughed. It was a laugh that set one's teeth on edge and sent a cold shiver down one's back. When he took another step and reached out Quatre reacted. He pulled the bottle from his pocket - his car keys dropped to the ground in the process - and sprayed his opponent straight in the face. Pepper spray might have been more effective...if his attackers would have been human. In this case, however, holy water did wonders.

With a cry of surprise and pain the vampire jumped back, pressing both hands over his eyes. Where the holy water was eating through his skin like acid, it exposed uneven patches of bloody flesh and bone.

His companions, too surprised to react stared at him in shock. For a moment it looked as though they were torn between running away and fighting. In the end pride overtook common sense.

Quatre had nowhere to run, and he had little time to think. He kicked the first attacker between the legs. He wasn't even sure if vampire anatomy was the same as human, until the man doubled over in pain and went to the ground. His companion was fast; too fast for Quatre to react. Something hit him in the chest, threw him several feet backward and into a solid brick wall, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Before he could even move his opponent attacked again.

"You bastard!"

He saw a face distorted by hatred, large white fangs and claws long enough to rip out his throat. Instinctively Quatre brought up his arms to protect himself. He could almost feel his attackers' hot breath against his skin when the night was suddenly pierced by a sound somewhere between a snarl and a cry of fury. It took Quatre a moment to realize the sound didn't come from the vampire.

Something dashed past him too fast to see. To his human eye it was nothing but a blur. There was the sound of something slashing through the air, paired with the sickening noise of flesh and bone being cut. Something warm and sticky splattered against Quatre's raised arms, and the vampire's severed head landed next to him. The headless body was still moving, almost grotesquely as though it didn't know it was already dead. Even as it started to turn to dust and crumbled it still took another step or two.

Trowa spun around, one arm stretched out toward the tall vampire who was still wailing in pain. A cloud of vapor seemed to shoot from his hand and suddenly the vampire was hit by a flame. Wails turned into screams as the fire engulfed his body.

The last of the trio, the one who had been temporarily incapacitated by Quatre's kick, jumped to his feet and fled. Before Trowa could go after him and finish him off as well, Quatre jumped up.

"No! Stop it," he yelled as he grabbed the young man from behind and held him tied. "Let him go. It's over."

Only after he felt Trowa calm down, did he release the demon from his embrace. As he bent down to pick up the car keys that had dropped earlier Quatre noticed his hands were shaking. Suddenly his stomach lurched. He stumbled to the side of the street, dropped down to his knees and vomited his heart out.

He could feel Trowa approach from behind but when the young man reached out to touch him he tensed involuntarily.

Trowa pulled away as if he had burned his fingers. "I'm sorry!"

"No." Quatre wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "I didn't mean to... I mean I was..." He shook his head, not sure what he was trying to say. Finally he just stammered. "I don't think I can drive right now."

####

The parking lot at the 'Rainbow Pond' was only half full as Treize Khushrenada pulled up in front of the bar. He took a quick look around, his eyes searching for Milliardo's flashy, red corvette. When he didn't find the car he parked his own vehicle, locked it and slowly walked toward the bar.

Out in front a couple of... he wasn't quite sure what they were, but as far as he could tell at least one of them was only partially human... stood smoking and talking. They were laughing about some kind of joke as he passed them. The bouncer, a man roughly the size of Gheorghe Muresan, gave Treize one look before nodding at him.

"Welcome back!"

The incubus returned the gesture. As he stepped into the bar his eyes swept the room, searching for Milliardo. Once he was sure the young man wasn't there - not that he had really expected to see him - he walked to the bar and slipped into one of the leather stools.

The barkeeper eyed him with the same guarded look he had given the incubus the night before. He finished mixing the drinks he had been pouring, slid them toward two young men sitting at the other side of the bar then came over to Treize.

"What can I get you?"

"Milliardo. I mean...I see his car is gone, so I assume I've missed him."

"By a few hours," Duo Maxwell confirmed. "He came by to pick it up this afternoon."

"Hmm," Treize grunted thoughtfully. "I take it he comes here frequently? May I leave a message for him with you?"

"Do I look like a bloody answering machine?" Duo grumbled.

"Please?!" the incubus asked calmly, politely. "I would be much obliged."

The barkeeper huffed but pushed a pad of paper and a pen in front of him. "I can't promise I'll be seeing him any time soon, though. He might be here a few days in a row then not show for weeks to come."

Treize nodded understandingly. "Thanks."

"One other thing... This place is considered neutral territory. I don't allow fights... or weapons of any kind. So if you ever want to come in here again..." the rest of the sentence was left hanging in the air, but Treize understood anyway.

He nodded again.

"No disrespect intended. My apologies. May I see your wine card?"

Duo grabbed one of the menus from beneath the bar and put it in front of the older man. "Didn't you take Milliardo home last night?"

"I did." Treize confirmed.

"Then you know where he lives. Wouldn't it be easier, and faster to just deliver your message in person?"

"Well, let's just say..." the incubus smiled faintly as he opened the wine menu. "I'd prefer not to show up uninvited."

####

"Misses Robinson, his neighbor from across the hall was holding the elevator when he entered the lobby of his apartment building. The old lady must have just returned from walking her dog; like clockwork she took a walk every day between Jeopardy and the evening news.

"Thanks." Nichols put on a smile.

"She returned the smile while her pooch, a white teacup poodle yipped at the young man. Nothing unusual there, Biscuit always barked at him...or anyone else for that matter.

A hidden glare caused the mutt to pull his tail between his legs, whimper and hide behind his mistress.

"Working late again, Mister Nichols?"

"Yeah well," he smiled politely. "Not much one can do. Bills need to be paid, right?"

"So right, so right..." she agreed as the elevator reached the top floor. The doors opened with a swoosh. "Will we see you at the block party this weekend?"

"I don't think so. I'll probably have to work."

They walked together to their apartments.

"Oh, that's a shame. Well, good night."

"Good night."

He waited until her door had shut before unlocking his own. He walked into the apartment, closed the door and sealed it with a basic protection spell, simple enough even for him to handle.

Only then he turned on the overhead lights and went to check on his 'guest'. The pull-out couch in the living room had been turned into a makeshift bed, occupied by a young man apparently in his late teens. His blond hair was mussed and sweaty, his chest covered tightly with white linen bandages.

One of the pillows had fallen to the floor. As Nichols bent down to pick it up the sleeping figure stirred. A pair of bright blue eyes opened slowly.

"You are awake?!"

"Where am I?" The young man swallowed as he pushed himself up onto one elbow.

"At my place."

"It's Nichols, isn't it? You serve the Khushrenada house."

"I serve my Prince!" Nichols replied tersely.

"How did I get here?"

"You don't remember?"

Looking down at his bandage wrapped chest Sebastian von Ranzow shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Well, what exactly do you remember?"

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

**Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.**  
><strong>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 9**

"What exactly do you remember?"

"I remember waiting for someone to contact me after I had crossed into the human realm..."

:::Begin Flashback:::

_He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting in this little roadside diner... the only business on the entire island that was still open at this time... but he had been told to wait here, so wait he did. _

_Technically 'Lindl Island' wasn't really an island, because it wasn't completely surrounded by water. But few people knew that the narrow band of land on which the 4-lane road was build that connected to the interstate. was not man-made. Even fewer knew that the peninsular had been used for centuries...if not millennia...as a natural portal between the human dimension and the 'Other World', more commonly known as the demon realm. _

_Water was a great conductor, not only for electricity and sound, but also for magic. No wonder really that magical phenomena was so often reported near or in association with water. Technically portals could be opened anywhere and by anyone depending on the skill and level of magic used; water just made things a whole lot easier. Even minor demons and lesser creatures can travel between dimensions without problems near lakes or oceans. _

_Lindl Island, stretching over just a few square miles, was home to a sleepy little fishing town where time seemed to have stood still and even the cockroaches died of boredom. The last time Sebastian had been here must have been during World War I, give or take a few decades, and the place, as far as he could tell, hadn't changed much since. _

_When the waitress came to refill his coffee cup...for the 4th time... he stopped her._

_"Thanks, I'm fine."_

_"The kitchen is about to close. If you want anything to eat, Hon, you better order now."_

_He WAS hungry, but it wasn't human food he was craving. Still he ordered some fish and fries. The important thing about living amongst humans was to blend in, and act like one was expected to act. _

_When the waitress had asked him earlier if he was new in town, she didn't remember meeting him before, he had told her he was a photographer, just passing through. His car broke down a few miles down the road and he was waiting for a friend to pick him up. She had bought the story, even offered the phone number of the local sheriff who doubled as the town's mechanic in his spare time. He told her it was alright, he would have the car towed later._

_Sebastian was staring into his half empty coffee cup when the door to the diner opened. From where he was sitting the young incubus had a good view of the entrance. His jaw nearly dropped. When he had been told to wait for someone to pick him up, he certainly didn't expect the young lord himself to be that 'someone'. _

_He and Treize had met before. After all, their families moved in the same social circles. In fact his oldest brother Christian and Treize, who were about the same age, had been what could be considered close friends growing up. They would go hunting together, sparred with one another and got into fights over the same female. Of course he was too young back then to join them on any of their outings, but that didn't stop him from admiring the incubus prince for as long as he could remember. Yes, he wasn't too proud to admit it; he had a serious boy crush on the older and so much more sophisticated demon. When Treize fled the demon realm it nearly broke his heart and he promised himself that one day he would join him. It had taken a while for that to happen; but time was of little relevance for an incubus. _

_For a moment Sebastian wondered if Treize even recognized him. After all, 200 years ago he had been all but a prepubescent gawky fledgling. But then, he had been told his resemblance to his older brothers was hard to miss. In fact, the entire von Ranzow clan, tall, blond and blue-eyed, looked very much like poster children for the 'Herren Rasse' campaign._

_Considering that he was the only guest in the diner, aside from two old men playing dominos in the back of the room, it didn't take long for Treize to notice him and walk toward his table. He looked slightly taller than Sebastian remembered him, and even more untouchable than before._

"_I see you made it. Did you wait long?"_

"_Not too long," he lied. _

"_Did you come alone?"_

_Sebastian frowned slightly. "Of course. Why?"_

"_Let's get going." The older incubus urged. "Did you pay already?"_

"_No, not yet. Is something wrong?"_

"_I'm not sure." Treize shrugged as he pulled out his wallet and threw a couple of bills onto the table. "It's just a feeling, but I don't like it. Let's get out of here."_

_Grabbing the leather jacket hanging over the back of his chair Sebastian slipped it on as he followed the other man. When they stepped out into the night he looked around, surprised. The street was empty. No car?_

_Treize seemed to be reading his mind._

"_I came by boat."_

_It was a dark night, the sky covered with heavy clouds that didn't allow for any light of the moon to shine through. A sound, too faint for human ears, caught Sebastian's attention. Something…someone was moving in the darkness. Instinctively his hands went into the sleeves of his jacket, reaching for the pair of daggers hidden there. _

_Treize raised one hand to stop him before he ever pulled the weapons._

"_It's alright. Leigh…Leslie?!"_

_Two figures, tall and intimidating, stepped into the light. They looked like they were brothers, perhaps even twins. _

"_Everything is clear, my Prince," one of them – Sebastian didn't know whether he was Leigh or Leslie- reported. "We are ready to leave."_

_Nodding in acknowledgement Treize turned toward his young charge. "Let's go."_

_The two body guard led the way; not toward town where most of the larger ships and fishing boats were anchored, but toward one of several private docks used by tourist vessels and boats that ferried people from and to the mainland. The small group had covered less than a mile when Treize suddenly froze in his track. Sebastian felt it too. They weren't alone, and this time he was sure it wasn't any of Treize's men. He instinctively tensed as he looked around._

"_Sir?!" The other two men stopped. They didn't seem to have noticed._

"_Glamour." Treize announced matter-of-factly. _

_It made sense. Glamour spells were great for concealment. They were difficult to master, but even more difficult to detect. The simple mind of a human or average demon was easily deceived, and that was what made glamour so successful. _

_Behind them the lights of the diner had faded in the distance, the bay ahead was still too distant to make out in the dark of the night. His ears picked up a noise from the side of the road, the slight rustling of leaves beneath someone's foot._

_Both he and Treize jerked around in unison. The incubus prince thrust forward his right hand, breaking the glamour spell and revealing five previously obscured figures. Sebastian's eyes went wide as he recognized his oldest brother._

"_Christian?!"_

_The heir to the von Ranzow clan smiled; but it wasn't a pretty smile._

"_You know, Father always was sure that you had some way of contacting Treize. I personally didn't believe it. I guess I didn't give you enough credit, little brother. As for you Treize… Tsk Tsk" he clicked his tongue. "Honestly I didn't expect you to come here, personally. But then, you have always been known to be nothing if not overly-confident."_

_Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "You __**used**__ me?!" he spat._

_Without warning, and before Treize could hold him back the young incubus dashed toward his brother. He wasn't sure what made him more angry; that he had been manipulated into exposing his connection with Treize or the fact that he had actually allowed that to happen._

_A furious cry escaped his lips as he reached into his jacket and pulled out the razor-thin, deadly daggers. The attack was sudden enough to catch Christian off guard. As he swiftly moved backward to avoid being disemboweled two of his men quickly stepped in to protect their master._

_But before Sebastian could attack again Treize stopped him._

"_Enough!" _

_There was no room for argument in Treize's voice. As he put himself between the von Ranzow brothers he pulled out and activated his weapon._

_Sebastian's eyes widened in awe. He had heard of the demon blade, every incubus knew its story, but never before had he actually seen it. The fact that Treize was carrying… and wielding the sword, could only mean that he truly was meant for greatness. After all, all the ancient scripts said so._

_His brother seemed far less impressed. His smile turned into an outright smirk._

_Christian reached for his weapon, a short sword that had been passed down through the family, swinging at his old friend. Treize parried the blow by catching the blade midair with his own._

"_Put down your weapons and I will let you walk away," he demanded._

_The elder von Ranzow gave a hard laugh. "Funny, I was about to suggest the same. Minus, the 'I'll let you walk away' part, of course," he grunted as he pressed against the demon blade._

_The ancient sword emitted a bluish glow, which only seemed to intensify as Treize pushed back. From the corner of his eyes the incubus prince noticed one of Christian's men raise his hand. He couldn't tell if the man as holding a weapon but he didn't wait to find out. In one swift motion he swirled around, his blade slashing through the air with inhuman speed and power. It cut through the demon's torso like a knife through butter, killing him instantly. _

_With an angry cry Christian jumped over the falling body toward Treize. The incubus prince had barely time to parry the attack. Small flares of energy crackled as the demon blade met solid steel._

"_Leigh," Treize pressed through his teeth, "get Sebastian away from here."_

"_But...," young man tried to object, but was cut off instantly. _

"_Now! We will catch up with you in a bit."_

_Leigh nodded at Sebastian._

"_This way!" _

"_Stop them!" Christian shouted, still clashing swords with Treize. "Don't let them get away!"_

_As his three remaining lackeys tried to chase after his brother they were met by Leslie, who promptly proved why he had been chosen to protect the incubus prince. Armed with the element of surprise and a lethal pair of long but thin-bladed daggers he dashed toward one of Christian's men. Caught off guard and too slow to react, the man caught one of the daggers in his neck. The blade severed his throat and vocal cords in one slash, given him not even time to cry out before he dropped to the ground. _

_Sebastian wanted to stop and fight as well, but Leigh simply grabbed him by the arm, pulling him along._

_For some time they could hear the sounds of battle mixed with an occasional groan of pain, behind him. Then it grew quiet. Not daring to slow down and look back, the young incubus kept running, following Leigh until he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned his head to see Treize, alone, his weapon still activated. He was bleeding from a cut over his right eye and some scratches on his left arm, but seemed otherwise fine. Sebastian swallowed, but didn't ask what had happened to Leslie…or his brother. Neither did Leigh._

_His face a mask of perfect calm, the incubus prince never even gazed at them as he took the lead. _

"_Hurry up. There is no time to waste." _

_Sebastian sped up, trying to catch up with Treize when he was suddenly hit between the shoulder blades. The impact was strong enough to propel him forward. He might have stumbled if Leigh had not reached out to catch him at the last moment._

_Alarmed by the noise, Treize turned his head. He nearly gasped at the sight of the dagger protruding from the young man's back. _

"_Leigh!"_

_The bodyguard nodded and dashed off into the darkness. Sebastian dropped to his knees, panting._

"_Let me take a look?" Treize crouched down next to him, drawing a sharp breath as he examined the wound._

"_It needs to come out, now," he concluded. "Hold still, it's going to hurt."_

_Sebastian nodded, afraid that his voice would betray him, and braced himself. The sharp pain nearly took his breath away as the incubus prince pulled the blade out with one quick motion. The cut started bleeding instantly. He could feel the warm sticky liquid soak his shirt and the inside of his jacket. But when he felt a burning sensation spread through his body he knew that the open wound wasn't his biggest problem. _

_As he turned his head he recognized the bloodied throwing knife in the other man's hand as one of a pair always carried by his older brother. Lethal enough in their own right, the blades' deadliness was only enhanced by a coating of poison, extracted from one of the most venomous snakes in the Other World._

_He swallowed, his mouth suddenly gone dry. _

"_It's bleeding, that's good, isn't it?"_

_Treize nodded as he helped him to his feet. "It should flush some of the poison from the wound. But we should get to the boat quickly. We are almost there?"_

_Treize helped him to his feet._

_As he looked up Sebastian could see the dock ahead of them. The clouds had finally broken, and the image of a sickle shaped moon reflected from the water's surface. If he had expected a yacht or some kind of fancy ship he was sorely disappointed. The boat Treize had spoken of was just that, a fishing vessel with one mast and a small wheelhouse._

_By the time they reached the wooden pier, Sebastian could feel his fingers tingle, indicating that the venom was making its way through his bloodstream. _

"_Get on!" Treize ordered. _

_He waited for the younger man to jump aboard before following him. With one swing of his blade he severed the line that was tying the boat to the dock. At almost the same moment the ships engine came to life._

"_Liam!" he called out. "Get us out of here."_

_There was no answer. Something seemed off. Sebastian could feel the hair on the back of his neck raise. There was no movement at all in the wheelhouse. _

"_Liam?!"_

_The incubus prince pushed past him, heading toward the wheelhouse then stopped so abruptly that the younger man who had followed nearly ran into him. Sebastian's eyes went wide. Liam, or what was left of him, was sprawled on the floor of the small structure. There was blood everywhere. It looked like there had been a hell of a fight._

_Treize let out a curse that would have made any seaman blush, then suddenly tense and sniffed the air._

_Sebastian could smell it too…oil, gasoline and a faint scent of fire. His mind was still trying to make sense of it, when the older man already reacted. He grabbed him by the arm pulling him toward the railing. _

"_Into the water!"_

"_What?"_

"_Jump! Now!" Treize yelled at him before diving head first into the bay._

_He somehow managed to slip off his leatherjacket before jumping over the railing as well. Something…someone grabbed his arm pulling him under water only moments before all hell broke loose. An explosion shook the air followed by a fireball that lit up not only the sky but the depth of the water as well. The shockwave that swirled him around under water; would probably have killed any human. Disoriented and almost deaf he struggled to the surface desperate to breathe. The moment his head broke through the water he gasped for air, filling his burning lunges. Only after several deep breaths did he remember that he wasn't alone. Frantic he started to look around. There was debris everywhere. What was left of the boat was still ablaze. The flames provided enough illumination for him to finally make out the other man's head a couple dozen yards away._

_Treize was swimming toward him. _

"_Are you alright?"_

"_I think so."_

_To tell the truth, he was actually feeling better now. Perhaps it was the chill of the water, or the Adrenalin pumping through his body…or perhaps he just got lucky and not much of the poison got into his blood. _

_What happened?"_

"_The explosion you mean? I think we can thank Christian for that."_

"_What are we going to do?"_

"_Swim! There is a car waiting for us on the other side."_

"_Swim?" Sebastian's teeth were chattering. The water was feeling colder by the minute. "You can't be serious. That has to be at least 2 miles."_

"_2.3 miles, actually," the other man corrected._

"_There is another dock just half a mile south. We can grab a boat there."_

"_That's where they will be waiting for us," Treize replied calmly. "You are in no condition for another battle. And quite frankly, neither am I."_

_Realizing that he was probably right Sebastian argued no more. His brother was known to be thorough._

_"I'm sorry. I was careless and that..."_

_"Stop that!" Treize interrupted sharply. "You can apologize later. For now conserve your strength. We have a long swim ahead of us."_

_He was right once again. The darkness and the cold water didn't make things any easier as they made their way across the way. Behind them the slowly approaching sounds of sirens indicated that local authorities were on their way._

_The pain in his back had only gotten worse and now that the adrenalin rush was beginning to fade he could feel it even more. The tingling in his limbs was turning to numbness, and keeping himself above water was becoming more difficult by the minute. Eventually he could barely feel his arms. At one point he simply stopped struggling. He started to sink but just as the water fell together over his head he was grabbed by the neck of his shirt and pulled back to the surface._

_The pain between his shoulder blades brought him back to his senses; that and Treize Khushrenada's voice which sounded anything but happy._

_"Stay with me! Do you hear me. Don't you dare give up on me now. Some good men died tonight so that you and I can live. If you die on me now, I swear I will bring you back and kill you myself."_

_It didn't sound like an empty threat. Sebastian swallowed._

_Then he could make out the faint sound of an engine, approaching from the island._

_A motorboat! More of his brother's men? Suddenly his body felt even colder than before; if that was even possible. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. They were literally sitting ducks. _

_The small boat approached quickly but suddenly turned off its motor._

_"My prince?!"_

_That voice? Sebastian let out a sigh of relief._

_"Leigh!" Treize sounded almost as relieved as he._

_The motor rumbled to life again, throttled , and the boat carefully turned toward then. Leigh reached over the side extending his arm toward the Incubus Prince._

_"Give me your hand, Sir."_

_"Help me get him in first."_

_Sebastian made no attempt to protest. He was grabbed by his arms and legs and heaved into the boat. He didn't even have any power left to move. Moments later Treize was aboard too. Someone, probably Leigh threw a jacket over his body. It smelled of blood and sweat but it was dry and warm. _

_"What happened?" Leigh asked as he gunned the engine to full power and sped toward the shore._

_"The explosion? Courtesy of Christian I assume," Treize replied. "They must have gotten to the boat after we left, cut the gas line and rigged the motor to turn on and ignite it when someone stepped aboard. Did you get him?"_

_Leigh shook his head. "He got away before I managed to catch up with him. Then the fireworks happened and I figured you might need some help."_

_"How in hell did you find us, anyway?"_

_"Knowing you as long as I have, Sir, I figured you wouldn't be stupid enough to try stealing a boat and risk running into another trap."_

_"Yet, that didn't stop you."_

_"I had no choice. I can't swim."_

_The incubus prince laughed._

_"Besides, the Keno brothers always were better known for their brawn then their brain."_

_Treize turned serious in an instant._

_"I'm sorry about Leslie... and Liam."_

_"Yeah..." Leigh looked back over his shoulder. "You are so quiet down there. Didn't die on me already, did you?"_

_"I'm still alive, so don't even think about throwing me overboard yet." Sebastian tried to sound nonchalant, but the pain in his voice betrayed him._

_Finally they reached the shore, where a limousine was waiting. The driver came running and helped to pull the boat on land. _

_"I saw the explosion. What happened?"_

_"I'll tell you later. Help Leigh with the kid and then get us out of here," Treize commanded. "Wait! Let me have your phone."_

_"Liam and Leslie?"_

_"They won't be coming."_

_Once again Sebastian felt himself being picked up by his arms and legs. He was carried to the car and rather unceremoniously deposited onto one of the back seats. _

_Across from him the incubus prince was dialing someone's phone number, while the driver and Leigh jumped into the front seats. Tires screeched as the limo took off like a bat out of hell. By the time they reached the interstate Sebastian was drifting in and out of consciousness. The last thing he clearly remembered was Treize talking on the phone, telling someone to meet them, and bring a dose of krait anti-venom._

_:::End Flashback:::_

"I guess I didn't die after all," the young incubus ended his account as he settled back into the pillows.

"Not yet," Nichols confirmed seriously. "But I swear, if I find out that you were in any way involved in setting up this trap, I will make you wish you had."

Sebastian managed a sarcastic grin. "Is it just you or is everyone here this paranoid?"

"Most everyone," the other man confirmed evenly. "Those who weren't have already been hunted down and killed by your brothers."

The grin fell from Sebastian's face., replaced by an almost embarrassed expression.

"I am not my brothers."

"We will see."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 9**

From where he was sitting Heero could overlook the entire town and more. As he watched the red taillights of cars moving down the roads like tiny ant-like creatures, he wondered what this place might have looked like a few hundred years or so ago, before toll roads and mid-town skyscrapers. He could imagine lush fields and brush land, herds of buffalo roaming at daytime and coyotes ruling the night. It must have been beautiful... and serene.

In a way it still was, at least up here, 3000 feet above the valley surrounded by trees and rocks. For some reason Heero had always liked the peace and serenity of nature when he needed to think, even before he understood what J meant when he told him that he was just 'following his blood'.

Since as far back as he could remember, Heero had lived at 'Wolf Mountain', a research and rehabilitation facility located inside the Yosemite National Park. Having grown up around the wolves at the center, he had always felt a strange connection to those animals. He used to consider them his friends even before he really knew and understand who...what he was. When he got a bit older he started to 'sleepwalk'. At times he would wake up in the morning and find himself outside in the wolves enclosures; covered in dirt and without the slightest idea how he got there. J just told him not to worry about it; he would probably outgrow it, but suggested that he perhaps lock his door at night especially when the moon was full.

At was around that time, he must have been 11 or 12 years old, that he met Odin Lowe met for the first time. He remembered playing with Segoni, the ageing gray wolf who was once the leader of the pack, when the tall dark-haired man had suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere...

:::Begin Flashback:::

_Heero looked up surprised. He knew that visitors could make reservations to tour the center, but they were never allowed to enter the grounds of the research facility itself. And most definitely the animal enclosures were off limits to anyone but a selected few staff members. So, how did a stranger get in here?_

_And what was even more perplexing was that Segoni greeted him like an old friend. _

_A ghost of a smile crossed the man's face as he crouched down next to the large gray and white wolf. Instantly Segoni rolled over to have his belly rubbed, something Heero had never seen the animal do for anyone but himself. _

_"You must be Heero?"_

_Instinctively the boy took a step back._

_"Don't be frightened."_

_"I'm not," he insisted. _

_It wasn't a lie. Segoni was a unique old wolf. He had the wisdom of age and experience. Heero trusted his judgment; knowing the animal would never allow anyone to harm him. If Segoni didn't consider the stranger a threat neither did he._

_"Who are you?" he asked, curiously._

_"My name is Odin, Odin Lowe."_

_"Do I know you?"_

_The man rose to his feet. He looked Heero over, thoughtfully for a few moments then shook his head. "No, I don't think you do."_

_Just then J walked into the enclosure. _

_"Heero, have you..." the old scientist broke off as he noticed the other man. "Odin?!"_

_Apparently they were not strangers either._

_"J."_

_"What are __**you**__ doing here?"_

_"I think you know very well why I came." _

_"I won't let you take the boy."_

_"And how exactly are you going to stop me?" Lowe replied calmly._

_Heero"s head snapped around, his heart nearly skipping a beat. As far as he knew there was only one 'boy' around here, and that was him. His hands clenched into fists. Was this man really going to take him away; away from his home and his friends... To go where? _

_Suddenly Segoni was next to him, nudging him with his nose. There was something reassuring and steady in those wise eyes, as though he was telling the boy not to worry. _

_"I warned you back then about the consequences of trying to play God," the stranger continued. "But you decided not to listen. At least take responsibility. Does he know anything yet?"_

_"He is just a child." J replied, and then directed at the boy added. "Heero, go inside, finish your homework."_

_Reluctantly he strolled off, leaving the two men and Segoni behind. But once inside Heero stopped, hiding in the shadow of the door, as he tried to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation._

_"He is not just a child," Odin pointed out. "I'm sure by now he must be feeling some changes. How long are you planning on keeping him in the dark... Are you waiting for the day when..." _

_The tall man suddenly looked up, directly in his direction, and Heero instinctively ducked his head. __**Had he been discovered? How?**_

_He couldn't be sure. But Lowe lowered his voice and grabbed J by the arm leading him further into the enclosure where they couldn't be overheard. Frowning in frustration Heero wondered what was going on? What was it J was keeping from him, and who was the mysterious stranger who seemed to know so much about him._

### End Flashback ###

In the end J had allowed Odin to take Heero with him... for the summer. It became, to say the least, the most eye-opening and fascinating time of his life.

Odin lived in a cabin high in the rocky mountains, surrounded by miles and miles of nature and wilderness. His job was with the national park service. He was a ranger... and a werewolf.

Werewolves had been around since the beginning of time, he was told. In one form or another most civilizations acknowledged them. Especially in the old days they were feared, hunted and killed, often due to ignorance. But also because especially during those ages when people used magic and spells to turn themselves into werewolves they were nothing but savage beasts. Yet there were also cultures that understood the werewolves' power, accepted them and integrated them and other demons into their lives as a part of nature.

Heero would be lying if he said that he hadn't been confused, even frightened when he first learned that he too had the blood of a lycanthrope running through his veins, but in a way what Odin told him seemed to make sense.

He'd never forget the first time when he watched the man transform into a large, silvery black wolf. It was unsettling but at the same time mesmerizing. The most important thing, Odin had told him, was to learn to control the beast rather than being controlled by it. In time one could learn to transform at will, instead of being forced to change by the cycles of the moon. And with enough training it was even possible to use ones wolf senses without any transformation at all.

His summer with Odin turned into more than a decade during which he visited the research center less and less frequently. He had lived up in the mountains with Odin and the pack, a group of wolves that had come from "Wolf Mountain" just like him. He had jokingly called it his family reunion when he first met them. Little could he have known how close to the truth he had actually been.

He had come to meet many of the other rangers. For their benefit Odin had made up some story about his nephew, son of a nonexistent sister and brother in law, who had come to live with him after his parents died in a plane crash. Heero usually ran across them in the park or at the ranger's station when he stopped by to see Odin. Very few people actually came all the way up to the cabin. One of those who occasionally did was Joseph Spotted Deer, the local sheriff. His Lakota name was Tȟáȟča Glešká, but most everyone knew him simply as Joe. He had grown up on the nearby Indian reservation, born into a long line of a shamans or spiritual leaders, and was one of the very few who knew about Odin's...secret.

Heero couldn't help but smile when he remembered the time when he accidently called it a 'condition' , after reading up on the internet about werewolves and lycanthrope.

_"It isn't a condition," Odin had hollered. "People like you and I are not ill. and there is no cure for it either. If that's the way you think and feel about it, you might as well pack up your things right now and go back home."_

It was the first and probably the only time Heero had ever seen Odin furious.

Joe was also the only person who was familiar with Heero's story. In fact, sometimes it seemed to the boy as though the sheriff knew more about him than he did himself. Joe used to call him Wana Chikal, Little One. In fact, he still did, even though by now Heero stood a good foot taller than him.

Once Heero had learned to control his transformations Odin had suggested... no insisted that the boy enrolled in public school. For his first year of high school Odin rented him a room in town where the boy would live during the week. But once he was old enough to get a driver's license, Heero usually made the hour long commute from and to school. Since he hated to ask Odin for money he took a job as 'junior ranger' during the summer, basically taking groups of tourists on guided tours through the park. It didn't take long for him to become the most popular guide, once word started to spread that for some reason his groups always seemed to encounter the most wildlife on their tours, including a large pack of wolves which seemed to pop up regularly along the trail. By the end of the summer he had saved up enough to buy himself his first motorcycle...

A noise, too faint for human ears, ripped the young man from his musings. In the bushes behind him he could hear something move, slowly, quietly, deadly. Heero did not hesitate. Closing his eyes momentarily to gather his powers, his silhouette started to change in the glow of the nearly full moon. Within moments the man was gone, and in its place stood a large gray and black wolf.

Lifting his black nose Heero tested the air. Amber eyes watchful and bright, ears standing up in alert. He certainly smelled something, and it wasn't human. Then his sharp eyes caught the creature in the underbrush; a large mountain lion. The cat was easily 150 lbs, twice the size of an average wolf, and still a good bit larger and heavier than Heero. He had wandered into a territory that had already been claimed, and it looked like the 'owner' wasn't in the mood to share.

_I suppose that explains the "Mountain Lion Terrain, no Dogs allowed" signs around the hiking trails_, Heero thought as he felt his hackles raise.

He opened his mouth exposing a ferocious set of ivory colored teeth, raised his nose and laid back his ears to show that he wasn't intimidated. He had no yearning to fight, but he didn't have any desire of becoming someone else's late night snack either.

The large cat stopped in its approach, and their eyes met. Perhaps he had never seen a wolf before, or maybe the animals strange scent confused him. Pulling back his ears he hissed and showed his teeth. For the longest time both predators stared at one another, until the cougar finally broke the eye contact. He turned and leaped out of sight but not without letting out another snarl, a clear and unmistakable warning.

Heero waited until he was sure the cat was gone before he allowed himself to relax. He threw a gaze up into the sky. The moon was standing high over the hills. Time for him to head back to the Rainbow Pond. He had borrowed Duo's car - with his permission - and had to return it before the club closed.

As he trotted down the steep and narrow hiking trail Heero felt more at ease than he had in a long time. He was glad that he had decided to come up here to clear his mind. He knew now what he had to do.

####

Sitting over his laptop in the bedroom of his apartment Nichols could feel Sebastian's presence as the young man approached.

"Busy?"

"Hmm..." he didn't bother interrupting his work.

"Something important?"

"Research."

He was still checking up on several leads he had found regarding those two names that Treize had given him. The 'super information highway' was quite a wondrous thing; magical in its own right one could say. And if one just knew where to look, one could pretty much find everything. Of course, he hadn't relied completely on the internet, but also implemented some more 'traditional' sources in his search, and made a few rather interesting discoveries. Treize would be pleased, he was sure.

"I'm hungry."

"There is pizza in the fridge." He still didn't turn his head. "I see you have found the beer already."

"That's not what I meant."

Nichols knew exactly what he had meant.

"You're not supposed to leave the apartment, yet. I'll bring something back when I come home tomorrow. Now, rest." He put enough emphasis into the words to make them an order, not just a friendly suggestion.

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, as thought he was going to object, but finally left without another word. Nichols could hear him walk back into the living room. A few minutes later the TV came to life. Turning off the computer, he closed the lid and checked his watch. It was still relatively early, perhaps the idea of bringing home some prey wasn't so bad after all. Sure, he had fed just recently, and Incubi could go without feeding for days, even weeks if need be. But just because he wasn't hungry didn't mean he was opposed to a little 'snack'. And then, of course there was always the entertainment value, as well. Anything had to be better than watching TV...with Sebastian von Ranzow.

####

"Can't sleep either?"

Milliardo was sitting at the breakfast counter, over a bowl and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, when Wufei walked into the kitchen. The old fashioned wall clock with the pendulum read 2:40.

"tf might help if you'd cut down on the caffeine," the younger man suggested, as he opened the pantry.

"Actually, I couldn't sleep so I figured I might as well get up and make something out of this wasted night. What's your excuse?"

"I just finished up a report that's due tomorrow. Just grabbing a snack before heading to bed."

"You are working way too hard, you know that? It's just school."

"Exactly. Some of us need a degree, because they actually want to find a good paying job in the future."

"Highly overrated." Milliardo insisted.

"Yeah? What do YOU suggest."

The other man grinned as he looked up. "You could just let me be your sugar daddy."

"Oh, what a temptation." Wufei huffed in amusement. "But speaking of sugar... What happened to my Honey Smacks? I could have sworn there was a brand new box."

"Sorry," Milliardo mumbled around a mouthful of the sugary cereal. "I had a bit of a sweet tooth tonight. Not sure what happened. I'll get a new box tomorrow, I promise."

I'm sure I could explain it. If you were willing to listen to me, Wufei thought. When you use your powers your body somehow needs to replenish that energy. As long as a box of Honey Smacks is all it takes to satisfy you, I would say we are still pretty well off.

"Don't worry about it," he said aloud as he reached for a different cereal. "It's not like I'm not eating your stuff all the time. By the way, how did the meeting go with that art dealer? Did you come to an agreement?"

"Sure did," Milliardo washed the last spoonful of Honey Smacks down with some coffee before continuing. "Turns out the guy who wanted the drawing really seemed to like it. He was willing to pay whatever I wanted for the piece. Some people just have way too much money."

"No kidding." Wufei replied dryly.

####

The bar was already closed when Heero finally made it back. He had taken the wrong off ramp, ended up miles from where he meant to go, only to discover that the GPS in the car wasn't working. Luckily, Werewolves came with their own build in celestial navigation system. Of course, finding his direction based on the position of the moon and the stars would have been a lot easier in a more familiar region.

Charley the bouncer was just leaving, the rest of the crew had already gone home it seemed. Except for Duo who had emptied the cash register and was locking the money into the night safe.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be late," Heero tried to apologize.

The other man just made a dismissive gesture.

"I only just finished up anyway. Get in the car!"

"Huh?"

"Get into the car," Duo repeated. "You are coming home with me."

"Why?" Heero frowned.

"Because you can't stay here tonight."

The frown deepened a little. "Why?" he repeated.

"It's Wednesday, the cleaning crew is coming, but they won't show unless they are absolutely alone."

Heero gave a knowing: "AH!" Then he frowned a little more. "Why not? Are they illegals or something?"

"Illegals? Of course not. " Duo huffed as he gave him a strange look. "They are brownies."

"Brownies!?"

The image of little girls in scout uniforms armed with brooms and dusting rags jumped into Heero's mind. He shook his head, that couldn't be right. Confusion was written so clearly across his face that Duo almost burst into laughter.

"Brownies, you know...hobs...gnomes...heinzelmänchen..."

"Little...magic...fairies you mean?" Heero asked. Well, it did make more sense than girl scouts, he had to admit.

"Yes, Fairies." Duo chuckled. "You really crack me up, you know that? Where have you been living all your life?"

"Not around fairies and heinzelmänchen, that much is sure," Heero huffed, slightly snubbed by the remark. "Where I come from we had to do our own cleaning up."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note: Alright, so here we have a little look into Heero's past. For those who are wondering about Quatre and Trowa, they will find out more in the next chapter.

Two reviews for 5 chapters? My muses are going to starve at that rate. You know, muses live on feedback, right? ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

Quiet Man Cometh: thank you for your review. Any kind of feedback is always greatly appreciated. I think you won't be disappointed when the storyline swings back to Treize and Milliardo. So, bare with my introduction of the other characters just a little longer :) Thanks again for reading and for commenting.

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 10**

Quatre was being chased by a headless body. He wasn't sure why the corpse was after him until he realized he was holding it's severed head in his hands. Terrified he dropped the bloody body part. As it hit the ground, a pair of sightless eyes fluttered open. Quatre tried to scream but no sound came from his mouth. Suddenly the head burst into flames...

Sweat drenched and trembling the young man woke from his nightmare. Beside him the bed was empty. After driving him home Trowa had left without a word. Quatre had not tried to stop him.

Watching the blades of the large, ornate ceiling fan turn slowly above his head, the young man spent a few minutes trying to calm his franticly beating heart. He still wasn't absolutely sure what had surprised him more about the incident on his way home from work, the attack itself or the violent ferocity with which Trowa...Triton had reacted.

Somehow Quatre had always known that Triton was more than just your average demon, but he had never imagined how powerful and fierce... and possibly dangerous he truly could be..

His ability to sense demons and otherworldly creatures had steadily grown over the years, and with it his thirst to learn more about them and everything magical. At first he had had only his mother's diary, and her books that had been stored away in a large trunk in the attic. But once he started working at Howard's he suddenly found himself surrounded by a nearly limitless supply of reading material and information. He sometimes borrowed books or read them at work. But more often than not he bought them when he thought them interesting enough to be read more than once. Those books were added to the pile in the attic, until even the trunk eventually became too small to hold them. In an effort to make some more room Quatre finally decided to look through the whole pile and perhaps take some of the books back to Howard's store. As he shuffled around leather bound first editions along with paperbacks the young man had came across a small pouch made from soft leather and decorated with tiny beads and pearls. When he checked it he had found it contained a collection of semi precious stones, rocks and crystals. Remembering what he had read about the use of crystals and rocks in rites, spells and rituals he wondered what his mother might have been doing with them.

With the idea of checking them more thoroughly later Quatre had taken the pouch downstairs into his room, tossed it under his bed and forgot all about them... until one day he had found his sister cleaning up his room when he came back from a jog at the park.

::: Begin feedback:::

_"What are you doing in here, Damya?"_

_"What does it look like?" His sister, hands at hips, almost glared at him. "You know it wouldn't kill you if you would pick up after yourself, every once in a while. Or at least bring your dirty clothes down to the laundry room."_

_Using two fingers she picked up a pair of socks from under his desk and tossed them into the laundry hamper she was carrying. _

_"Wait, take this one, too." Quatre told her, as he pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head before heading toward the bathroom to take a shower. "Thanks."_

_Suddenly Quatre noticed the little leather pouch on his writing desk. __**Wait a second!**_

_"Did you put that bag there?"_

_"Yep. I found it under your bed, along with a plate of something that looked like a science project gone terribly wrong. Where did you get it?"_

_"Found it in the attic amongst mom's things. Why?"_

_Damya smiled softly. "I gave her that pouch one year for Mother's Day. We made it in arts class in school. I had no idea she had kept it."_

_"Oh yeah, I remember now." Her brother smiled as well. "She was so proud of you when you gave it to her, and told everyone how good a job you had done. I wanted her to be proud of me too. So I gave her something we made in wood-working class."_

_"Yes, I remember that too. It was a neck tie holder."_

_Both siblings burst into laughter at the memory. _

_Then Quatre grew serious._

_"I still miss her."_

_"I know. We all do." His sister ruffled his hair. "Say, Cat did you put those rocks and gems into the bag?"_

_"No, they were in there when I found it."_

_"Strange. I was looking at some of them. There is Quartz, Tourmaline and Amazonite... Quatre," she looked up at him. "Did you know many of those rocks are believed to have certain powers. In fact I believe in the middle ages some people thought they could be used for magic rituals."_

_"Amazonite - used for healing and to dispel negative energy...Black Tourmaline - protects from black magic and negative energy...Quartz- amplifies and focuses energy..." she explained as she separated some of the stones from the rest. "Amethyst - protects and shifts energy... Hematite enhances concentration and focus... Fluorite - helps finding truth that has been concealed..."_

_"What are you saying; that our Mother was some kind of witch." Quatre asked tongue in cheek, even though that idea had started to cross his mind of late. "That would surely explain a few things about this family."_

_Slapping her little brother on the back of the head Damya shook her head. _

_"Quatre Raberba Winner, you are such a smartass..."_

_"I know." He smiled at her sweetly. "But you love me anyway."_

_His sister gave a huff of fake exasperation._

_"Anyway," she said. "Crystals, minerals and rocks are also used in healing and metaphysical rituals. Maybe mom was into meditation and yoga, not witchcraft and spells ?" _

_"I can see that. I'm sure she didn't get a lot of peace and quiet with the whole bunch of us around."_

::: End Flashback:::

After this conversation his mother's pouch went back into the attic, but never truly left his mind. Quatre started to read up on the power of crystals and gems and their different uses. His sister was right; many of them were said to balance and rejuvenate the physical body as well as the mind, or were simply tokens of good luck or enlightenment. But he also found other purposes.

Amazonite could be used for healing and to dispel negative energy...Black Tourmaline to protect from black magic and negative energy...Quartz- amplified and focused energy...Amethyst protected and shifted energy... Hematite enhanced concentration and focus... Fluorite helped finding truth that has been concealed... and most all of those could be used in one way or another in the enhancement of spells.

So, Quatre wondered, had his mother just believed in the practice of alternative medicine, or was she a practitioner of far darker and more controversial arts. Could this have anything to do with his strange 'powers'? He was determined to find out.

Quatre couldn't remember if it was at around that time, or somewhat later that he started to notice a presence near him that seemed more than just a random occurrence. At first, the young man had to admit, he had found the idea of an invisible stalker somewhat unnerving. But he could sense no malice or aggression from the presence. Still, he was more than just a little curious why a demon would choose to follow him around like a lost, little puppy dog. There was really no way to know for sure...unless he asked.

So, how does one have a conversation with a creature, that doesn't even seem to be part of this world? Well first of all, Quatre figured, it would help to be in the same room, or at least the same dimension. If he could bring the presence out into the open he was sure he could find some way of communication.

For several weeks Quatre spent more time than ever with his nose buried in texts about demons and summoning rituals. Unfortunately most of these books were rather vague on the subject. It seemed they were mostly written in a time when 'magic' was considered 'cool', after shows like Charmed and Buffy and books like Harry Potter had created countless wannabe witches and warlocks.

He did find one book though, in a section of the store that was off-limit to most customers. It certainly had seen better times. The pages were yellowed and frail, some had come loose and a couple were missing. A few of them even showed signs of teeth marks from a mouse or other little rodent. The book looked old, it was handwritten...in Latin, (For the first time in his life Quatre was glad his father insisted on him learning what he always had considered a dead and boring language.) and included a detailed pencil drawing of what seemed to be a summoning circle. He recognized a pentagram in the center of two circles and several crystals or stones arranged between its points.

Knowing that Howard might not allow him to take the book home Quatre had managed to sneak it out of the store in his backpack, run it through his father's office scanner, and slip it back into its place in the store shelf the next day, without anyone ever knowing.

It took him nearly two weeks to translated the manuscript, but when he was done he had a good understanding of the summoning basics, and was almost certain he would be able to pull it off.

:::Begin Flashback:::

_On a Saturday near the end of summer Quatre climbed up into the attic to retrieve the bag with his mother's gems and crystals, and slipped it into his backpack along with the other items mentioned in the book. Grabbing a beach towel from the linen closet on his way downstairs, he announced that he was going to go down to the lake._

_The lake, actually more like a pond, was located on the furthest region of the Winner property. It was large enough to sustain a good population of fish, and the water clean enough to swim in, but it was barely used anymore since the large new swimming pool was much closer to the house. Quatre could be sure that he wasn't going to be disturbed._

_The young man found himself a patch of soil in the shadow of an oak tree, probably as old as the land itself. He hesitated briefly before dumping the contents of his backpack onto the ground. Kneeling down he placed the printout of the summoning circle within reach and secured it with a fist-sized rock. His fingers searched for the silver letter opener he had 'borrowed' from his father's desk set. The book said, although the circle could be drawn with anything, precious metals helped to amplify it's energy. _

_The young man hesitated again, questioning for just one moment if he really should be doing this. Demons, spells magic... a few years ago he would have laughed about it all. And even today, after everything he had seen and learned he still wasn't sure how much of it he truly believed. Was it really possible for someone like him to perform a rite like this? It was curiosity more than anything else that had prompted him to give it a try._

_Carefully Quatre drew the circles, leaving only about an inch or so of the outer circle open, then the pentagram; using a compass to ensure that all five elemental peaks, fire, earth, water, spirit and air, pointed into the right directions. He placed the quartz pieces into the center to amplify and focus the circle's energy and used Amethysts and Black Tourmaline for protection. He surrounded himself with Hematite to enhance his own concentration and after one last deep breath he closed his eyes, cleared his mind and waited. _

_It didn't take long before Quatre could feel the familiar demonic aura approaching. It's presence became slowly stronger. When he was sure the demon had entered the binding circle he quickly completed the drawing. Instantly he could feel something happening. A gust of wind, strong enough to blow away the paper printout and his towel, flared up. The sky darkened as though the sun was suddenly covered by heavy clouds. Quatre couldn't tell for sure; he did not dare open his eyes and break his concentration. He could feel the demon trying to break the circle. But it was no physical battle. More like a tug-o-war- of minds. _

_Brows narrowed in concentration as Quatre whispered quietly:_

_"Show yourself, Demon, and submit!"_

_The wind blew stronger, the resistance increased. Something like a giant dark shadow spread in front of his mind's eye. It startled Quatre for a moment. His attention faltered and he almost lost his connection to the demon. _

_No! he shook his head and suddenly his concentration was back._

_"Show yourself, Demon, and submit!" he demanded again, as the book had told him to._

_The wind was howling now. He had to brace himself against its fury. The shadows changed in shape and size, shifting from one form to another in an enormous display of power._

_But Quatre, determined now not to lose this battle, pushed back with his own force. Eventually the resistance seemed to fade a little. He took it as a sign that it was time to complete the binding._

_"Show yourself...TRITON!"_

_All the power, all the sensations had suddenly merged into one thought, one word in his mind. He wasn't sure how and why, but he instantly knew it was the demon's name. _

_The wind died down, the clouds vanished as sudden as they had appeared. Slowly, cautiously Quatre opened his eyes and gasped. Before him, only a couple of feet away stood a striking, young man about his age, with brown hair that partially covered his handsome face and eyes the color of emeralds._

_Do demons wear blue jeans? _

_"Did I startle you?"_

_"No...yes... I mean, actually you surprised me rather. I was expecting something more...umm demonic and unsightly, to tell the truth."_

_"No, you didn't." Triton replied calmly. _

_Quatre frowned, and suddenly realized the young man...demon, was right. Strangely enough. Even after having felt the creature's immense power he wasn't frightened. He still could not sense any evil from the demon nor any ill will toward him._

_"But...How?!"_

_The ghost f a smile crossed Triton's face. _

_"I appeared just the way you imagined me. You see, I can be whatever you want me to be."_

_"Anything?"he sounded skeptical._

_"Anything," the demon confirmed._

_His frown only deepened as Quatre closed his eyes momentarily and concentrated on the image of a small dog, something akin to an Akita puppy he had seen in the window of a pet store downtown. He could feel the demon's aura change somewhat and when he opened his eyes the young man had disappeared, replaced by a puppy with thick fluffy, white and silvery-gray fur and a darker mask, a perfect copy of the one he had imagined, down to the dark gray tip of its tail._

_The dog was just sitting there, peering up at him with large green eyes, its tail brushing back and fourth across the ground._

_Quatre smiled. As he bent down to touch it, the puppy jumped up to greet him. Picking the little bundle up and pulling it into his arms the young man was rewarded with a series of sloppy dog kisses. _

_Suddenly he could feel his knees shake with exhaustion and he plopped down onto the ground with a deep sigh. The puppy squirmed, freeing itself from his embrace, jumped into the grass and shook it's body. A soft glow enveloped the creature as its body grew and changed, slowly shifting back into the form of the young man._

_"Who are you?" Quatre demanded to know._

_"I believe you already know that."_

_"I know your name and that you are a demon, but that's about it."_

_"That's more than most mortals will ever find out about me."_

_"So, what's next?"Quatre asked. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea that he was sitting here talking to a creature most would consider a product of someone's twisted imagination._

_"YOU summoned ME." Triton sounded almost amused, as he leaned against the large oak tree, crossing his arms in front of his chest._

_"Well, technically I didn't really summon you," Quatre insisted. "I just brought you out of the shadows you have been lurking in for a while already. Which brings up the real question. Why have you been following me?"_

_"Strictly speaking I have been with you since the day you were born, it just took you a while to realize it."_

_"Since I was born." Quatre frowned. "But why?"_

_"I was sent to protect you."_

_"Protect me, from what?"_

_"From anyone and anything that might want to cause you harm."_

_"Then I guess you are not a demon, but rather a guardian angel."_

_The brunette actually snorted in amusement. "Demon, angel...what does a label truly mean?"_

_The remark left Quatre a little puzzled, but he had too many other questions to wonder about it right now. Like..._

_"Who sent you?" _

_Who would be interested in safeguarding him and at the same time formidable enough to command a powerful demon. His mother perhaps? Did she know that he would inherit her abilities, and wanted to make sure he was watched over? But then, she couldn't have known that she would die and wouldn't be around to protect him herself, could she?_

_"I'm afraid, that is one of the things I'm not permitted to tell you. In fact neither was I supposed to show myself, but since you summoned me through your own power, I have had no choice but to submit."_

_"So, you are not going to get into any kind of trouble because of it, are you?"_

_"I don't believe so."_

_"Oh, that's good." Quatre let out a sigh of relief. _

_"You are strange." The demon gave another amused noise._

_"So I have been told. But say, now that I did summon you, does it mean I will be able to talk to you whenever I want?"_

_"Summoning spells are only temporary," the demon explained. "You only have control over me as long as the spell lasts. To make it permanent you would have to bind me."_

_"Bind you? Not literally with ropes or chains, I assume? And when I do that you will remain in this ...ummm realm?"_

_"That's correct."_

_"But wait. There is something I don't understand. Most demons are able to cross from the other world to this one as they please, don't they? I mean, I can't imagine that every demon in the human world has been summoned and bound by someone."_

_"You are right. A path from the other world to this can be opened by anyone who has a fair amount of power."_

_"Anyone but you..?"Quatre added._

_"No, I can travel between realms just fine," the demon replied. "Just not anywhere around you."_

_The young man frowned. "And why is that? You are sent here to protect me but can't get near me. It seems rather contradictable, doesn't it?"_

_"One has nothing to do with the other. I was ordered to protect you. But I made a contract to not show myself unless it becomes absolutely necessary."_

_"A contract," Quatre echoed._

_"There are many different ways to bind a demon, but the easiest would be to make a contract."_

_"Why would anyone make a contract with a demon?"_

_Triton shrugged. "Demons have many powers mortals might desire to use. It has been done throughout history."_

_"Okay, that makes sense. But why would a demon make a contract?"_

_Another shrug. _

_"Demons will only enter into a contract when it is in our best interest. We are selfish creature, don't ever forget that."_

_The blonde snorted. "Who would have thunk; we are not that different after all. Most humans aren't exactly selfless nobles either._

_"Aren't you rather cynical for someone your age?"_

_Quatre was about to counter that sounded rather strange coming from someone not much older, but then he reminded himself that Triton's human appearance, just as the little puppy, were only that, appearance. There was really no way of knowing how old the demon really was. _

_"So, when you say you Demons only enter contracts when it is in their best interest, that means you must get something out of it. What is it, if I may ask?"_

_"Power!"_

_"Power?! Exactly what are we talking about? Magic power?"_

_"It has many different names; spirit, ki, energy, inner light, mana..."the demon smirked slightly. "...the force?!"_

_**He didn't just say that, did he? **__Quatre nearly rolled his eyes._

_"The more powerful the person who makes the pact with a demon, the greater the reward, Because after that person dies it's powers go to the demon. We absorb them and make them our own." _

_"And therefore you become more powerful yourself," the young man nodded. "I think I get it. I guess it's not that bad, considering I won't need my powers anyway after I'm dead. But, hypothetically what would prevent you from just hurrying things up a little and kill me?"_

_"We can't harm the person we have a contract with without breaking the contract."_

_"Hmm..." Quatre mused. "Not even a little? I mean, what about a little friendly slap on the back while standing at the curbside, and oops little old me falls onto the street just in front of a big delivery truck? Would that be considered an accident?"_

_"Very few true accidents happen. It's a term mortals like to use to disguise their own blunders. Your example clearly wouldn't be an accident."_

_"That's good to know." _

_"I take it you are considering completing the binding and making a contract with me?"_

_"I think I'm pretty much done considering." Quatre nodded. "But I have one more question for you." _

_The young man looked at the taller demon. "You said you were sent to protect me. What about my sisters. Are they under your protection too?"_

_"My orders lie only with you. The rest of your family and other mortals are not my concern."_

_**I guess that takes care of the idea of Mother being behind this.**_

_"Why only me?" he wondered aloud._

_"That is another thing..."_

_"You are not allowed to tell me. I get it." Quatre nodded. "But still. You would have no reason to harm my family, would you?"_

_"My only orders are to keep you safe from any harm."_

_In other words, there would be no reason to worry unless one of my relatives would try to hurt me. Well, chances are that's not going to happen. Father never even spanked me as a child. Not even the time when he almost caught me playing with a lit candle, and I set my dresser on fire trying to hide it. _

_**I suppose, that puts my concerns to rest...**_

_**"**__Wait!" something just occurred to him. "if I make a contract with you what happens to the old one, the one which doesn't allow you to come close to me."_

_"It becomes void." Triton explained. "A demon who makes a pact with a mortal accepts the mortal as his master. One cannot serve two masters. Therefore any new contract will cancel out the old one."_

_The blonde frowned. "What guarantees do I have that you won't cancel out our contract as well, if something better comes along?"_

_"There are no guarantees," the demon replied. "I already told you demons are self-serving creatures. But perhaps it helps to know that for that reason it is very unlikely for us to take a step back. We would only make a new contract with someone even more powerful than our current master."_

_**Fair enough, I suppose,**__ Quatre thought. Of course, he had no idea how, in the great scheme of things, his own power compared to other's. _

_"Alright, I made up my mind." the young man finally announced. "What do we do to complete the contract?"_

_"You understand the terms and ramifications?"_

_Quatre nodded. "I become your master, you get to eat my spirit when I'm dead." _

_"Close enough," the demon agreed. "To accept the contract you have to name me."_

_"But you already have a name. Oh, you mean, give you a new name?"_

_The books hadn't been very clear about it. But it was rather simple really, and in a way it made more sense to him now. Names do have power. Just as the demon's name had brought him out of the shadow it was also strong enough to keep him bound to him. As his new master he would be the only one who knew Triton's new name. Until, of course, someone more powerful came along._

_It took the young man only a few moments to make a decision. _

_"As the one who summoned you, I also claim the right to name you... TROWA," he declared firmly. _

_He wasn't sure what he had expected, but nothing seemed to happen. Did I fail? Did it work? Was there anything else to it?_

_When he looked up he noticed the demon was smiling, ever so slightly._

_"Is it done?" he asked._

_Trowa nodded in confirmation. "It's done!"_

_"That was a bit anti-climatic, wasn't it?"_

_For a moment the demon looked at him bewildered. Then he asked calmly. "Would you prefer I'd put our contract down on a scroll of parchment and have both of us sign it in blood?"_

_"On second thought...I can live with anti-climatic." _

::: End Flashback:::

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 11**

Nichols let his gaze wander as his car rolled slowly down Carson Blvd. If one was looking for a little... entertainment, this was the place to be. The street was lined with willing prey, sparsely clad hookers of all ages, races and genders, willing to sell their bodies... and sometimes more, for a few hundred bucks. And there were always those willing to buy. In front of him a young man, so gorgeous that Nichols wasn't even sure if he was human, climbed into a red sports car. The driver was all over him before they even drove off. A minivan came down the other side of the street. Probably some family man stopping by for a 'quicky' on his way home to his wife.

Nichols was beckoned by several prostitutes, but didn't stop until he noticed a pair of young women at the corner of Bruckhurst. He rolled down his window and smiled.

"Hello there, ladies."

One of the girls, a red-head with legs all the way up to her neck, and a skirt so short it could easily have doubled for a belt, approached the car.

"Well, hello there yourself." Her voice was smoky and seductive.

"You two look kind of bored. Are you up for some fun?"

"What kind of fun?" she wanted to know as she leaned against his car, posing in a way that showed of her figure.

His eyes went to her barely covered breasts, and his smile deepened. "500 dollars worth of fun...maybe a little more. What's wrong with your friend, is she shy or something?"

"You want both of us?" the red-head asked as she gestured for the other hooker to come closer.

"Absolutely."

"A little ménage-a-trois?" She lowered her heavy eyelashes in a almost coy fashion. "Aren't you the naughty one."

Nichols laughed. "No actually, I need one of you to brighten up my cousin's day. The poor guy just came to stay with me after his wife threw him out and needs some serious cheering up. What do you think? You up for it?"

"500 dollars you say? Each?" She exchanged a look with her friend a blonde with green eyes and fingernails that would have made any tiger proud.

Nichols nodded. "That's what I said."

"Where is your cousin?" The red-haired hookers asked as she bend down to get a better look into the inside of the car, and at the same time give Nichol's a better look at her chest.

"He is waiting at my place. Why don't you jump into the back. It's just a short ride from here."

He waited for the two women to climb into the backseat. Their long legs and extra tight skirts made it a somewhat difficult endeavor. But finally the doors slammed shut and he stepped onto the gas.

_Here we come, Sebastian. I hope you like blondes. Because the little red-head is mine._

_####_

Tossing and turning restlessly, Quatre was still trying to go back to sleep when the wind blew a soft and strangely familiar sound through the open window of his bedroom.

_That tune?!_ His eyes flew open.

It was gentle and soft almost like the song of a bird; but at this time of the night... He remembered waking up to that same beautiful music when he was a kid; but he had never been able to find out who made it. His father had told him he was probably just dreaming.

Determined to discover where the sound came from, Quatre climbed out of bed, and quietly tiptoed toward the window. The curtains moved slightly in the night breeze. Cautiously and slowly the young man brushed them aside with his hand, just far enough to peek outside. Down in the yard, just outside his window stood a very large and very old Elm tree. But to his surprise he did not find a tiny bird perched in the branches singing his heart out, but a good-sized demon playing what looked like a wooden flute.

Trowa was sitting on a large tree limb with his back leaned against the trunk. One of his legs was propped on the branch while the other was dangling. With only the light from the moon above and covered by heavy foliage the demon was hard to make out in the large tree.

Suddenly he lowered his flute and looked up, as though he had noticed he was being watched.

_Don't stop! It's beautiful, _Quatre thought.

But Trowa had already slipped the instrument into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Have you been out here all this time? Why didn't you come in?"

Quatre didn't need to lower his voice too much. His window was the only one facing the yard. All the other bedrooms lay on the other side of the house.

"I had the feeling you did not want me around for a while. Are you feeling better?"

"I.. I'm sorry." the young man dropped his gaze. "I guess I was kind of out of it, wasn't I? You saved my life and I didn't even thank you."

"I'm not asking for your gratitude. But what you did was dangerous," Trowa reprimanded. "You should not have left the store without me. What if I had not made it in time?"

A sudden chill seemed to fill the room. Wrapping his arms around himself Quatre hugged his body. He didn't even want to think about what might have happened if Trowa hadn't shown up when he did.

"You are freezing. Go back to bed," the demon urged. "You are going to catch a cold or whatever it is mortals can catch."

"Only if you come, too." Quatre managed a sly smile. "I could use someone to help me warm up."

Trowa let out a huff of exasperating. "You are so spoiled."

"Whose fault is that?" the blonde smirked.

The demon snorted again. Then, with the ease and agility of an acrobat he swung himself from the tree branch to the window sill and pulled his body over the ledge. Pushing away the drapes he climbed into the bedroom with the ease of someone who had done it many times before.

"Now, go back to bed," he told Quatre who was still standing there, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

"You are beginning to sound like my father," the young man complained.

"No...I believe your father sounds more like this," Trowa disagreed, his voice a perfect match of tone and pitch to that of Zaheed Winner.

Quatre gave a little chortle. "Now that was just creepy. Don't ever do that again.. However, will you play a song for me while I go to sleep?...Like you used to do when I was little?" the young man asked as he slowly climbed back between the sheets.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Trowa replied.

"You used to play for me, didn't you? When I couldn't fall asleep soon after my mother died? I might not been able to see you then, but I do remember the song."

"I didn't do it for you," the demon insisted. "I only play for my own enjoyment."

"Right!" In the darkness Quatre smiled knowingly. "Well then, would you make a exception just this once?"

####

"Nice place you've got here."

The blonde hooker smiled and wiggled her green-taloned fingers at the nightman in the lobby, who promptly blushed and swallowed.

"Thank you." Nichols replied as he called the elevator and waited for the two women to enter before following them. He could feel the guard's eyes following them until the doors closed with a swoosh.

The ride took less than a minute dropping them off in a well lit, carpet covered hall on the 4th floor.

"Excuse me, ladies"

As the young man pulled out his keys he heard a slight scratching sound behind the door across from his, almost too low for a human ear to pick up. The little peephole in the door darkened momentarily. Nichols turned his head giving a little, friendly wave with his free hand, and whoever had been spying on him quickly shuffled away.

With an amused grin the incubus unlocked the door to his apartment, opened it and with an inviting gesture took a step aside to let the two women pass.

"Sebastian," he called out. "I've brought some...friends."

There was a noise in the living room and the sounds from the TV died instantly. Sebastian was still lounging on the couch, beneath a soft brown blanket as they entered, but he looked a lot better than he had earlier.

"Hello there...," he exclaimed as he sat up. "You have good looking friends."

"You are not so bad yourself, Mister.," the blonde hooker replied.

Sebastian smiled the smile of a predatory angel.

"Well, thank you. You've got a name? Or do I just call you baby?"

"Whatever turns you on, Honey," she replied as she smiled back at him and stepped closer.

Nichols touched the red-head on the arm.

"Why don't we give the kids some privacy and take our own business into the bedroom," he suggested, walking over to the bar and opening it to reveal an interior filled with bottles of all shapes and sizes. "Champagne?" he asked. Nobody could say that he didn't know how to treat a lady, even if that lady happened to be a prostitute.

The hooker whistled impressed. Even someone who knew nothing about spirits could tell those shelves weren't lined with cheap sparkling wine and low grade booze

They grabbed a bottle and disappeared behind the door to the bedroom.

Sebastian extended his hand, beckoning her to come closer. And when she did he pulled her down onto the couch beside him. The blanket slipped to the ground as he sat up straight, and she noticed the bandages around his chest.

"You are hurt?!"

He simply shrugged. "Just a little...um... family feud."

"You okay?

She reached out, running one of her nails gently over his chest.

Sebastian shivered.

"I will be," he assured her with the smile hungry tigers reserve for cute little baby deer. "Now I will be."

####

"Are you awake?"

"Uh...hu..." came a affirmative grunt from the other side of the bed.

Quatre didn't turn his head. He could feel the demon's presence next to him.

"Those vampires earlier today..." he said. "I don't think they were just out on a prowl."

"What makes you say that?" Trowa wanted to know.

"They came into the store a little earlier. It seemed as though they were looking for trouble," Quatre explained. "A customer who was with Howard at the time send them on their way. I am almost sure he wasn't human either. And I had the feeling those three wanted no piece of him."

"Hmm... Perhaps another vampire?" The demon suggested. "One ranked higher than them? It wouldn't be surprising. Those three seemed pretty far down on the totem pole. Vampires live in a strict social structure. And since they consider themselves part of the ancient ones, demons that have been around since the beginning of time, they also think of themselves as being above most other demons."

"So, they wouldn't just let anyone order them around," Quatre concluded.

"Exactly."

The mattress moved as Trowa shifted. "You shouldn't have stopped me from killing the last of them. Vampires are not known for their forgiveness. He will without a doubt be back for revenge."

"Well," Quatre replied, hoping his voice wasn't shaking. "If he does come back I'm sure you will be there to save me."

There was a long moment of silence before the young man spoke again.

"Remember the day when...when I summoned you?" He asked, and then without waiting for an answer continued. "When I asked you about the guarantees of you breaking your pact with me you told me demons rarely brake contracts with powerful mortals to make a new pact with someone less powerful. Was that supposed to be some sort of reassurance? Or did it just sound like that to me?"

Trowa laughed. It was a low sound coming from deep in his throat. Quatre could feel it vibrate through his own body.

"You still have no idea what kind of powers your possess, do you? Well let me put it this way... where most mortal's inner light glows with the intensity of a flickering candle, you light up like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center."

"You are joking, right?"

"I assure you, I'm not."

"Well, much good did it do me." Quatre snorted. It has a somewhat bitter sound to it. "I could do nothing when I was attacked. If not for you I would probably ended up as vampire supper today."

"I don't think so." Trowa replied calmly.

"Oh?!"

"Vampires rarely have supper before midnight. An early evening snack maybe; a very small one."

Quatre huffed as he elbowed the demon in the side.

"Hey! How is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I wasn't trying to make you feel better," Trowa insisted, although the amused tone in his voice was hard to miss.

####

Taking a step back, Milliardo wiped his hands on the little towel tugged into the waistband of his pants. He crooked his head, taking a critical look at the piece he had been working on. By now the slab of tan-colored clay was beginning to take the shape of a human figure.

Michelangelo, the Renaissance artist, claimed that he was freeing the human form trapped inside a block when he was sculpting stone. To Milliardo that was BS. He liked to think of himself being the one who controlled and shaped the medium, turning it into whatever his imagination and fingers could come up with.

The young man's gaze went to the windows. Earlier during the day, he had closed the automated blinds to shade his eyes from the glare of the bright afternoon sun. But now, in the early hours of the morning there was no need for such precautions. He looked around for the remote, sighing when he couldn't find it amongst the books, papers and tools littering his desk, and finally walked over to the window. A small control unit was built into the wall between two of the full size glass panes. He pushed the button that opened the shades, watching them rise with the soft hum of the electric motor, then pushed it again when they were about three quarters to the top.

Two of the windows stood slightly open; he rarely ever closed them. The likelihood of someone breaking in through the window on the top floor was to say the least, rather remote

Milliardo loved the night; the gentle cool breeze, the soft glow of the moon. Maybe that was also the reason he preferred to work at this hour.

He threw a look outside. In the parking lot below cars looked like miniature toys on a model train set. As he was watching, a Mercedes flashed its light twice then pulled out of the lot and slowly drove off. Milliardo could have sworn it was the same make and color as the car Treize had been driving.

"Great!" The young man laughed at himself. "I'm sure it's a good sign that something is wrong with your love life... or your brain... if you start making up imaginary stalkers."

As he turned away from the window his eyes caught the reflection of his own image in the glass pane. Instinctively his hand went to his throat, fingers brushing over the already fading mark at the side of his neck. He still couldn't remember how or when he got the hickey. But then, he had been quite drunk at least part of the night, and there were probably a few other things he did that he couldn't recall.

On his way back to the sculpting stand he passed his desk to look at a couple of his sketches. If he wanted to make any changes in the pose of his figure; now was the time to do it. As he picked up the sketch papers a small white plastic remote fell out from between them. Milliardo snorted.

_Typical, _he thought. _You never can find something when you need it, but the moment you stop looking it pops up._

The young man picked up the remote and dropped it into the stoneware pot in which he kept his paintbrushes and small sculpting tools. Then his eyes caught a very formal looking envelope addressed to him in neat and stylish penmanship. Picking it up, he pulled out a folded white card with gold embossed lettering; his invitation to the Hope Ball.

_Is that this weekend already? Darn, I almost forgot. Black Tie...White Tie? It doesn't specify, but considering the occasion I'd better send my black tux to the cleaner. But I don't want to look overdressed. I should call Noin and ask what she thinks...later, at a more civilized hour._

####

"You all set?" Duo asked from the door to the living room where he had put up his 'houseguest' for the night.

Turning his head to look at the pile of pillows and blankets on one of the armchairs, Heero felt inclined to ask if Duo expected an arctic weather front to move through, but instead just nodded.

"I'll be fine, thanks."

"I'll see you later then. There is food in the fridge, if you get hungry. And just so you know, I'm not a morning person, so wake me only if absolutely necessary, and even then on your own risk."

"I'll keep that in mind." the young man replied. "Do you mind if I watch some TV before going to sleep?"

Duo shrugged, but then added. "If you are going to order porn, you are paying for it."

"Got it." Heero nodded in acknowledgement. Not that he was actually planning on doing that.

As his host shuffled off into the bedroom of the little, but cozy two 2 apartment, he started to build his bed on the coffee-brown couch. He turned off the lights, fluffed up the pillow, picked up the remote and turned on the large, flat screen TV. after a few moments of channel-surfing he found what he was looking for; an early morning newscast.

A slender young woman was reading the weather forecast for the next week, and for a moment Heero wondered why they even bothered considering that half of the time the forecast was wrong anyway. There was a report on the jobless rate, and about a guy who climbed some high-rise office building on the east coast without the help of any safety equipment, followed by a few world news headlines.

The young man listened halfheartedly while he undressed and slipped between the soft blankets. his attention piqued only by the mentioning of a familiar name.

"And in local news..." the news anchor announced, "we are continuing to follow developments connected to the fire at the Wolf Mountain Research Facility at Yosemite National Park. For those new to the story: A fire of mysterious and - according to local authorities- suspicious origin swept through and destroyed part of the research center early Sunday morning. The fire started it a storage room at a isolated part of the research lab and was discovered quickly. Firefighters managed to contain the fire to just the one building and, according to the local fire chief, none of the workers and animals at the center were in any danger. Earlier this afternoon our colleague Kaye Thomson sat down with the director of the facility for a short interview."

The screen changed from the newsroom to the Research center showing a woman in her mid 30s along with a white haired scientist. They weren't really 'sitting down' but instead standing just outside the wolf enclosures.

"Dr. J, is there anything new you can tell me about the investigation of the fire?"

"I'm afraid I can't.," J replied formally. "We don't know much more than what the news already has reported."

"Do you have any idea who might have done this, or why?"

"There are many crazy people out there, unfortunately. Hopefully the federal authorities will find the one responsible before he can set another fire and possible hurt someone in the process."

"Absolutely." The reporter nodded. "Let me ask you, Dr. J, can you confirm any rumors that this fire might be in any way connected to the disappearance of park ranger at the Rocky Mountain National Park?"

"I'm sorry, but rumors are not something I like to get into."

"Very well, but it is more than just a rumor that several wolves which had been shot and killed in the Rocky Mountains came from this facility. And the ranger who disappeared...and is now presumed dead from what I understand... was in charge of those wolves. Did you know the ranger, personally, D. J?""

"Yes, we have met in the past," J confirmed.

Heero extended his arm, turning the TV off with a click. For while the young man lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling above him; the words of the reporter still ringing in his ears

**The ranger who disappeared...and is now presumed dead from what I understand...**

_Odin, _he pondered. _If you are still alive, where the hell are you? And why haven't you contacted me?_

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 12**

Treize checked his watch. It was almost 3:30. If he left the spa around 4, he still had enough time to drive home, take a relaxing bath and get changed before heading to the Hope Ball. He reached out to press the button that signaled Nichols he wanted to see him on the intercom system.

Moments later the door to his office opened.

"Sir?"

"Call the garage." The incubus prince told him. "I want Leigh to pick me up in fifteen minutes. And let him know I'll need the limousine tonight at 6:30 sharp."

"Yes, Sir. Umm...," Nichols paused briefly. "...you have a visitor, Sir."

"A visitor?" The other man echoed, puzzled.

"Yes. I took the liberty of sending her upstairs."

One of Treize's eyebrows jumped up in surprise. He rose from behind his desk, and without another word left the office and climbed up the stairs to the studio apartment. He opened the door and paused for a moment.

"Une!" He exclaimed. "What a surprise. What brings you here?"

The sucubus rose from the couch by the window. She was dressed in a dark blue pant suit; very elegant and at the same time very professional looking.

Treize stepped toward her. She extended her hand and he took it, pressing his lips softly against her fingers.

"You look lovely," he remarked.

"Thank you," she replied and gestured at a rolled up scroll on the coffee table. "Her ladyship wanted me to deliver this to you."

"You didn't have to come yourself. You could have send one of your girls," he pointed out as he picked up the scroll and walked over to the hidden wall safe.

"I wanted to see you."

"You need to be careful."

Treize locked the document away without looking at it. He was familiar with its contents and knew it would take time reading through it. Time that he didn't have right now.

"I was careful," Une assured him. "I would never do anything that might endanger you, my Prince."

He turned back toward her. "It's not my safety I'm concerned about. I can take care of myself."

"So can I." Her voice was almost terse.

He smiled softly. "I wasn't implying otherwise," he assured her.

"Word has it," she changed the subject. "You had a run in with Christian von Ranzow and he almost beat you in a duel. You were not seriously hurt I hope."

"Is that what he is telling people?" Treize laughed. "Christian has yet to beat me in anything. Do not believe everything you hear."

"Nevertheless, her Ladyship is worried. She asked me to tell you to be careful. Lord von Ranzow is a powerful man, and he would like nothing more than to see Christian become the next head of the incubus court."

"My mother worries too much. As for a Ranzow taking the incubus throne... they are welcome to try. That said, I'm afraid you have caught me at a bad time. I have prior engagements for tonight and was just about to leave. Would you like me to drop you off somewhere on the way?"

"That won't be necessary," she told him. "I have my own ride."

Treize nodded. And then, as she was already on her way out he reminded her once more to be careful and wished her a safe trip home

He stood for a few moment lost in thought, then stepped over to the window just in time to see her slip into a black or dark blue luxury car parked in front of the spa, and drive off.

He watched until he couldn't see the car anymore and then looked up. The sky was dark. It had been drizzling for hours. Actually it was more like a soft mist that was covering everything in a slick moisture. This being Southern California one didn't expect rain, or any kind of precipitation at this time of the year. But the elements had been going crazy for a while now it seemed; too hot summers, too cold winters...or vice versa, floods in the desert, earthquakes in Europe and tornadoes that seemed to be getting larger every year. Something was happening, he was sure; something that was a lot bigger than 'global warming' and 'greehouse effects'.

####

A low rumbling sound in the distance made Milliardo turn his head and gaze out of the window at the gray, cloud covered sky.

_Was that thunder? It sounds like it's over the mountains._

The young man was standing in front of the dress mirror in his bedroom doing battle with the bow-tie around his neck. No matter how many formal events he attended, no matter how many times he tied that damn thing, it never seemed to get any easier. Finally it was done. With a triumphant look at his own reflection Milliardo raised his chin.

_Take that._

The black tux he was dressed in stood in sharp contrast to the crisp white shirt underneath and the neatly folded pocket square of the same color. He was wearing his long platinum-blond hair open, and the little yellow diamond stud in his ear matched the cufflinks in his shirt.

The house phone rang and he could hear Wufei pick up in the other room. Moments later steps approached the open bedroom door.

"Milliardo?!" his roommate called out. "The limo is here."

"I'll be right there." The young man nodded in acknowledgment as Wufei appeared in the door. "Oh, Wu can you do me a favor and grab the invitation from my desk in the studio?"

"Got it!" the other man confirmed.

##

The door to the studio was closed as usual. Milliardo didn't like for anyone to wander into that room uninvited. Wufei entered and walked over to the large architect's desk. His eyes went to the new figure on the sculpting stand then to the board with the pencil sketches, and for a moment the young man wondered if Milliardo's artistic talents came from his mother. It would make sense, of course. From what he understood Milliardo had been a 'gifted' child since an very early age. Where other kids had trouble shaping little clay snakes and balls he had created models of animals he had seen at the zoo. His book reports were almost novels in their own right, and he had learned to play half a dozen instruments before he even finished grade school. And he seemed always to be looking for new inspiration.

Wufei's eyes darkened a little as he stared at one of the pencil drawn faces.

_But, by the ancestors, couldn't you find that inspiration somewhere else?_

With a sigh the young man picked up the envelope with the invitation, turned on his heels and with one last glower back at the incubus' drawing, left the room.

Milliardo was already waiting in the hall.

"Do I look okay?" he wanted to know.

Okay was of course, whenever Milliardo was concerned, an understatement. But Wufei just nodded.

"You look fine."

####

Treize lowered the business section of the newspaper he had been reading when his black town car pulled through the wrought-iron gate into the Winner estate. He dropped it onto the seat next to him and looked out of the window.

By now the drizzle had turned into a slow but steady rain. The long, curved driveway leading to the manor house was slick and black with wetness. Apparently the hosts had taken even the unpredictability of the weather into account when preparing for the party. A large canvas canopy had been set up to cover the sweeping stone stairway leading to the entrance, and a dozen or so umbrella wielding valets were standing ready, prepared to jump into action every time a car or limousine pulled up. Ladies in long evening dresses, and gentlemen in elegant black suits were shielded carefully as they made their way from their vehicles into the house.

Waiting for the chauffeur to exit and open the door for him Treize checked his watch. He climbed out of the car, nodded at the driver and allowed one of the valets to escort him through the rain. He walked up the stairs, pulled out his invitation and handed it to the tux clad servant at the door.

The man nodded and smiled formally as he look at the card.

"Welcome to the Hope Ball, Mister Khushrenada. Enjoy the evening."

Treize returned the nod politely, and then he stepped into... yesteryear. Yes, that was a good way to describe the atmosphere of the party. It was almost nostalgic, reminding him of - in his opinion- more civilized times, long ago, glamorous balls he had attended in Paris or Petersburg.

Music was coming from the main hall, where a live orchestra was playing. Treize followed the stream of guests, nodding in a friendly fashion at one or the other as he passed them. If he had stopped to turn his head he might have noticed the white stretch limousine that had arrived shortly after his, and the fair-haired young man exiting the car.

##

Quatre was working the room; greeting people, shaking hands, exchanging a few words here and there before moving along, when he suddenly noticed a tall, striking, man with neatly cropped ginger-colored hair who had arrived by himself. He recognized the man in an instant, and nearly gasped. Walking up to his sister who was mingling as well, he whispered.

" Damya, who is the guy with the tawny hair, left to the governor? I don't think I recognize him."

"Oh, that's Treize Khushrenada. Remember I told you about him before?"

"Treize Khushrenada," Quatre echoed. "The entrepreneur, owner of the Serene Rose?"

"The same," his sister confirmed. "Be nice to him, he has very deep pockets and a very charitable disposition."

_Treize Khushrenada_, the young man repeated in his mind. _I will be damned._

Putting on a smile he approached the tall man.

"Mister Khushrenada, I hope you are enjoying yourself."

"Well, thank you, Mister...?" he left the question hang open in the air.

"Forgive me. I'm Quatre Winner."

"Oh, yes, of course.," Treize nodded. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"But we have met already. The other day at Howard's bookstore."

The other man's eyes narrowed for just one second, too brief for most to even notice. Then he smiled.

"The clerk, right? Now I remember you. Forgive me for not making the connection right away. So you work at that store?"

He sounded surprised.

"Just after school," the young man confirmed. "My father believes that in order to appreciate money one has to earn it."

"Is that so? He sounds like a very wise man. I'll be looking forward to meeting him."

Quatre stretched his hand out. "Anyway, thank you for scaring off those hoodlums. Who knows what they might have done if you hadn't been there?"

"It was nothing." Treize hesitated a brief moment before finally reaching out to accept the extended hand. But before his fingers touched Quatre's, something small, furry and very fast came flying through the room. A set of small but sharp teeth clamped down on Treize's hand who pulled away with a surprised gasp.

"Triton!" Quatre exclaimed in shock and grabbed the dog by the fur around his neck. He could have sworn he had left Triton in his room when he came downstairs.

The puppy gave a little growling sound then ceased his struggles. A few guests turned toward them trying to figure out what had happened. Damya who had watched the scene from a distance came running over.

"Is everything alright?"

"I'm so sorry." Quatre apologized. "I don't know what came over him, he is usually a very friendly animal. I'm so sorry."

_Father is going to kill me if he finds out about this._

Treize made a dismissive gesture as he pulled out his pristine white handkerchief and dapped away the blood that was streaming from the two puncture wounds. "Don't worry about it, it's barely more than a scratch."

The tawny haired man smiled and reached out to pet the puppy. Triton gave another growl, his eyes turning from bright blue to black.

"He probably smells my cat." Treize remarked, his smile never fading.

"It's bleeding we should clean the wound and put something on it." Quatre handed the puppy to his sister. "Lock him into my room will you? And ask Iria to meet us in the parlor."

As Damya nodded and hurried away the young man ushered Treize into the other room, just at the moment Milliardo Peacecraft entered the hall.

###

"It is really nothing," the older man tried to protest, as Quatre showed him to a settee and asked him to have a seat.

"Please," Quatre insisted. "My sister will be here any moment."

And sure enough. The door opened and in walked a young woman, a first-aid kit in her hand.

"What happened?"

"Damya didn't tell you?"

"She told me someone got hurt."

"That would be me." Treize raised his injured hand and gave an almost embarrassed smile. " I can be so clumsy sometimes."

"Well let's take a look." Iria set down the little white plastic case with the red cross. "Quatre, you should go. Father needs you to greet the guests."

"Right. Umm...I'll see you later Mister Khushrenada."

The young man hesitated a moment then left the parlor, very much to Treize's relief, who had been starting to worry that Quatre might notice that the bite wound on his hand was already beginning to close.

"What happened?" the young woman asked as she examined his hand carefully.

Treize smiled. "It's embarrassing to talk about it," he replied evasively.

"Men." She laughed quietly and dapped a bit of a antibiotics onto the wound before covering it with a bandage.

"This might sound like a bad pick up line, but have we met somewhere before?" he asked. "Another charity function perhaps? Last spring at the local animal shelter, if I'm not mistaken."

"Possibly," the young woman replied. "I volunteer there when my time allows it. And I was there at the 'Adopt a Pet' day in April."

"That must be it then," he nodded.

"Coincidently we are having another fundraiser coming up next month. Our annual rummage sale at the shelter."

Treize laughed softly. "I walked right into that one, didn't I? Well, I think I have a pair of gold cufflinks and a couple of watches I'm not wearing anymore. Allow me to donate them."

"That is very generous of you. Thank you," Iria said as she closed the first aid kit.

###

_What am I doing here? _Milliardo thought as he looked around the room. _The next time someone talks you into spending money for a good cause, make sure you know what you are getting yourself into. Maybe this would have been different if Noin hadn't had to cancel on me at the last minute. I was looking forward to seeing her in an evening dress, too. _

Truth be told, he had never seen his friend in any kind of dress or skirt. For a brief moment he wondered, if that so called 'emergency' might have been nothing but an invention to wiggle her way out of this 'date'. _No_, he decided. _That just wasn't Noin's style. If she hadn't wanted to come she would have told him so when he asked her. _

Taking a glass of champagne and something that looked like a little tartlet from one of the caterers walking the room Milliardo continued to make his round. The guest list was literally a kaleidoscope of California's rich and famous; politicians, actors, business tycoons. He knew many of them. Not personally of course, but from news reports, papers and magazines.

A couple- she build like a model, he short and pudgy- introduced themselves as Mister and Misses Paul Noverra, as though that should mean something to him. She told Milliardo that they had seen some of his work at an art show and recognized him from the picture in the brochure. Her husband added they had bought one of the paintings, always happy to help a starving young artist, and invited him to come and visit them at his ranch in Arizona.

Milliardo managed to smile and promised to take them up on their offer if he ever got bored in the city.

"Can't buy class, I suppose," a voice from behind him remarked as the pair was walking away.

Turning around the blonde was faced with a man in his early thirties, tall, dark haired and with the tan of an outdoors man. He looked familiar in a way.

"I guess not," Milliardo agreed.

The stranger held out his hand. "Michael Piccozi." he introduced himself.

_That's right, the Baseball player! That's who you are. I knew I had seen you before._

"Milliardo Peacecraft." the young man took the hand and shook it.

"So, you are an artist from what I gather?"

Milliardo smiled. "Not really. It's more like a hobby."

"I see. May I ask what you do for a living then?"

"I'm afraid I haven't decided yet."

Piccozi laughed as though he had made a especially funny joke, then looked over Milliardo's shoulder at something or someone in the distance.

"Excuse me, but it seems my wife is being bored to death. I'd better launch some kind of rescue operation or I'll be sleeping in the doghouse tonight. It's been nice talking. I suppose we will see each other again during dinner."

"Pleasure to talk to you too." Milliardo nodded. He watched the tall man walk away. _Nice guy!_

"Milliardo?!"

_That voice! _The young man spun around.

"Treize?!" For a moment he wasn't sure if he wanted to smile and scowl at the other man. "What a surprise."

"Indeed," Treize Khushrenada agreed. "It's a small world. Are you... um...with someone?"

"No, I'm alone." Milliardo replied stiffly. "My date had to cancel. Some...unexpected emergency that came up. You know how that is, right?"

The tawny-haired man flinched. "Ouch. I suppose I deserved that one. I can't say I blame you for being angry, but I can explain...really. You think we can talk somewhere, in private?"

Looking around the room Milliardo made a vague gesture. "You think there is any privacy around here?"

"Maybe there is..." Treize eyes were focused at the large double door to the patio. "Do you mind a little rain?" he asked.

###

Watching from across the room as Treize Khushrenada approached a tall, young man with long silvery hair, Quatre's eyes narrowed slightly as the two of them disappeared through the patio doors. It seemed as though the two of them were no strangers, but he also sensed more than a little irritation in the blonde's demeanor.

He looked around. With three of his sisters, and 2 brother in laws mingling with the guests the young man decided it was a good time to find out what had caused Triton to act like he did earlier. He run up the stairs to the 2nd floor, headed down the hall unlocked the door and opened it. The room was dark.

"Trowa?!" he called out, reaching for the light switch.

"Right here."

The demon was sprawled out on the bed in his human form. Quickly Quatre closed the door behind himself.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he chided. "You can't just go around biting people. Do you have any idea how much trouble I went through to talk Father into letting me keep you...umm Triton? He doesn't like animals in the house. So unless you are prepared to sleep in the stable or chained up outside you'd better be more careful."

Trowa didn't even blink.

"Are you done?" he asked calmly as he pushed himself up on one elbow.

Quatre just scowled.

"Do you have any idea who that man is?" the demon asked.

"No, not exactly. But I'm sure now he isn't human, and I was about to find out more. He is the guy I told you about, the one who scared off those vampire thugs in Howard's store. Another 5 minutes and I would have known who...what he really is."

"Or another 15 minutes and the two of you would have been making out in the back of his car."

"Excuse me?!" He shot the demon a glare of indignation.

"He is an Incubus, Quatre. A sexual vampire."

"What?" Quatre's jaw nearly hit the floor as he dropped onto the edge of his bed. Of course, he had heard about Incubi. But he had always thought... "They are real? I mean, they really exist, in a physical form? I assumed they just dwell in people's minds like nightmares that feed on fear."

"Oh no, they are real," Trowa confirmed. "More so than many other demons. They are some of the ancient ones, that have been around since the beginning of time and have been mentioned by name even in some of the holy books. They are vampires, feeding on pleasure instead of blood, and they can put you under a spell just by touching you. It has the same effect as vampire saliva."

"But... how dangerous can they be?" Quatre asked. "It's just pleasure. I mean, a little sex has never killed anyone, right...well most of the time."

"Remember I told you that every time a demon feeds he takes some of your inner light,? Trowa explained. "Most mortals don't have the ability to replenish their spirit as quickly as you can. Taking a little at a time won't kill anyone, but over time..."

"But what would an incubus be doing here, at a charity function I mean? He is an entrepreneur, a philanthropist even, from what I understand. He owns a chain of beauty salons..." suddenly Quatre's eyes went wide. "I'll be damned. Damya went to one of his spas. I've got to make sure she doesn't go there again."

"Quatre?" A knock at the door interrupted the conversation.

The young man nearly jumped. He leaped off the bed and flew to the door.

"Iria, what's up?"

"Father sent me. Dinner is about to be served. You look a little pale, are you alright?"

"Just a bit of a headache," he lied. "I was lying down for a spell."

"Is there someone else in here? I thought I heard voices."

"Oh," he grinned somewhat sheepishly. "That was me talking to..." He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder to the bed, where Triton was curled up, wagging his furry tail, his pink tongue lolling from his open muzzle.

"Do you want me to tell Father you are not feeling well?"

"No, no. I'll be there in a minute," he assured her. "Let me just wash up very quickly."

###

It wasn't completely dark yet, but the air had cooled off noticeable. The rain was still falling, but it was dry beneath the heavy canvas awning. Milliardo was leaning against the stone fence surrounding the patio. every once in a while the wind would blow a few drops of wetness into his face, but he didn't move.

"Like I said," Treize told him. "I can't blame you for being angry. But at least allow me to apologize."

He tried to reach out but Milliardo pulled away before he could touch him.

"I don't get it. If you did not want to come upstairs you could have just said so. I'm a big boy, you know. If someone tells me I'm not their type I can live with that."

"That's not it, really."

"Yeah? Then what was it? A sudden emergency at 3 am; house on fire, cat got stuck in a tree...?"

Treize sighed.

"Truth be told I freaked."

"You freaked?"

"Yes. You said your roommate would be asleep and suddenly there he was... Would you believe me if I told you I'm actually a rather shy person?"

"Shy...you?" Milliardo looked like he was about to burst into laughter then he blinked, and frowned slightly. "Oh my gosh, I get it. You are still in the closet."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes," The young man nodded, as though it finally all made sense. "You haven't come out yet, and you are afraid someone might find out that you are gay. That's it, isn't it?"

A wry smile crept into Treize's face and he nodded. "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid. You don't know my family. They would disown me if they had any idea. They are very old fashion in that way."

"Well, I can tell you one thing, your secret is safe with me," Milliardo assured him. "And Wufei couldn't care less who I bring home."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," the other man murmured under his breath.

"What?"

"Umm... nothing. Does this mean I am forgiven and get another chance?"

"Forgiven?" Milliardo stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I guess so. As for another chance, that will cost you."

"Oh?" Treize raised one curious brow.

"Lunch, tomorrow." the younger man nodded. "There is a new Shabu Shabu restaurant at Woodbury. I haven't been able to talk any of my friends into checking it out yet."

"Shabu Shabu, hmm?" Treize's eyes sparkled with humor. "That's a steep price to pay."

"Take it or leave it." Milliardo told him with a smirk.

The older man laughed. "Lunch it is," he confirmed. "Tomorrow at noon? I'll pick you up at your place."

Suddenly the muted music that had been coming from inside stopped and a men's voice announced something too low for them to understand.

"We'd better go back inside," Treize suggested. "Banquet time."

"Good," Milliardo replied. "Talking about food always makes me hungry."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 13  
><strong>

"You know, you could have come upstairs," Milliardo said as he climbed into the passenger seat next to Treize Khushrenada. The other man had messaged him a few minutes earlier to let him know that he had come to pick him up for lunch. "As I told you, Wufei is out of town; won't be home until tomorrow morning. Some kind of martial arts competition "

Treize shrugged as he slipped his cell phone into his pocket.

"I had a few phone calls to make," he explained. "...business."

"Business?" the younger man echoed, and strapped himself in. "On a Sunday?"

He suddenly realized Treize never had told him what he did for a living, or much of anything else about himself for that matter.

Another shrug as Treize started the car.

"Weekends are big in the service industry," he simply said.

Milliardo didn't push the issue any further. The two men made small talk until they pulled into the parking lot across from the Kojiki Restaurant. It was well into the lunch hour, but through the large windowed front several empty tables were clearly visible. The young man couldn't help but wonder if that was a sign of things to come.

Visiting a new Shabu Shabu place could be like playing the lottery, either one hit the jackpot or one lost. He had never been to a mediocre Shabu restaurant. They always seemed to be either great or terrible. Hopefully, the Kojiki was the former rather than the later.

As they entered a tall, skinny man of Asian descent came around from behind the counter.

"Welcome back, Mister Khushrenada," he greeted the tawny haired man with a friendly smile. "Your usual table?"

"Please." Treize replied, and then at Milliardo's questioning look he shrugged. "I never said I didn't know the place. It's not that new, you know. Besides, I don't live very far from here."

They were seated at a small table by the window, and the restaurant owner adjusted the blinds to keep out the midday sun and give them some privacy while they were eating.

"Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Just water," Milliardo requested.

"Green tea," Treize added.

A few minutes later their drinks came and they made their selections, both opting for the lunch special prime cut beef plate with original broth, only Treize ordered also a side of tofu.

"You got to try it," he told Milliardo. "They have their own brand, it's delicious."

"I don't really like tofu," the young man replied. "But I'll take you word for it that it is good. So, tell me. who do you usually bring here; business associates... lady friends...boyfriends...?"

"Hate to disappoint you," Treize laughed. "But I lead a rather boring life. I usually eat by myself."

"That IS boring." Milliardo agreed.

A waitress brought two pots of broth, and turned on the heating plates in the table.

"Hot drops?" she asked.

Both men declined.

"Yesterday you mentioned your family," the blonde looked up at Treize. "Do they live locally?"

The older man shook his head. "My parents are...separated, but rather happy with that. They live in their own world you could say. How about you?"

"My parents are dead. They died in an accident, years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Treize looked a little uncomfortable, as though he regretted asking that question.

Milliardo shook his head. "It's been a long time. I can hardly even remember them. And even before they died I had been spending more time in boarding schools than at home."

The waitress returned with their beef plate specials, each came with a large order of various vegetables and a bowl of rice. She filled their condiment bowls with dipping sauces and after asking if they needed anything else, retreated.

"Where did you go to school?" Treize inquired as he started putting vegetables into the slowly simmering broth.

"Aren't you the nosy one?" Milliardo grinned.

"Just curious, but if it is a secret..."

"No secret," the young man replied and gave him the name of the prep school in Switzerland he had attended as he began filling his own pot.

"Impressive." Treize added a piece of thinly sliced Kobe beef and a piece of tofu to his broth. The meat was done in an instant.

How about yourself? Do you have any siblings?"

"Look who is nosy now." The older man chuckled.

"A tit for a tat," Milliardo replied with a smile.

"Fair enough I suppose. I did have two older brothers. But they were killed even before I was born. I'm afraid I know very little about them."

Now it was Milliardo's turn to look uncomfortable. He mumbled that he was sorry and decided it was probably safer to stay clear of personal questions.

Using his chopsticks like scissors Treize cut the piece of tofu in half, picked it up, dipped it into the sesame sauce and offered it to the other man.

"Just try it," he nodded encouragingly when Milliardo hesitated.

Finally with a sigh the blonde leaned forward, pulling the white piece of tofu from the chopsticks with his lips, chewing it slowly.

Treize watched him expectantly while he picked up the other half, dipped it and ate it himself.

"Well?"

Milliardo gave a little shrug.

"So, its not the most terrible thing I have ever eaten," he admitted, and it wasn't a lie. The firmness of the tofu was just right and it had taken on the flavor of the broth and the dipping sauce. "But don't expect me to go out of my way to buy spinach and tofu salad from here on."

Treize laughed quietly. Then he reached out with his napkin dapping away a little trickle of wetness from the corner of Milliardo's mouth.

"Little bit of sesame sauce there," he explained.

Just like the time when they first met at the Rainbow Pond, the touch sent a strange flash of sensations through Milliardo's body, making him almost gasp. He quickly directed his attention toward his simmering pot.

"Darn, I almost overcooked them," he mumbled as he fished out bunch of white mushrooms with long thin stems. When his heart finally stopped pounding he dared to look up again, only to find the older man watching him.

"What?" Milliardo asked. "Do I have any more sauce on my face?"

Treize simply shook his head. For a few minutes they ate silently before the tawny haired man spoke again.

"Did I mention I'm the proud owner of one of your drawings now?"

Milliardo looked up, surprise and confusion written across his face. Then realization hit.

"The sketch of Noin. YOU are the anonymous buyer?!"

"Not that anonymous anymore, I suppose."

"I don't get it. Why did you want that drawing?" The young man wondered. " And how did you come across it anyway?"

"An interior designer I'm working with had it in her portfolio." Treize dropped the last piece of Tofu into the broth along with his udon noodles and waved for the Waitress to bring him some soup base.

"You know," Milliardo told him, "You could have talked to me directly. Not only would I have given you a much better price, but I would have showed you some of my other...better stuff."

The older man shrugged. "The price was fair. As for the drawing, I like it. The young woman reminds me of someone I once knew."

Milliardo burst into laughter, earning himself a raised eyebrow from Treize.

"Did I say something funny?"

"You sound like a white haired grandfather sitting by the fireplace recalling stories of his life.'...she reminds me of someone I once knew.' " Milliardo made his voice sound frail and shaky. "You are not that much older than me."

Treize laughed quietly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "I guess not, it just seems that way sometimes."

The younger man looked at him, smiling softly. Intentionally, or unintentionally Treize's foot touched his under the table and he felt another flash of sensations. This time it didn't surprise him anymore; it just made him yearn for more.

"Do you have any plans after this?" he asked as he too dumped his udon into the slowly boiling pot.

"Depends on what you consider 'plans'," Treize replied diplomatically. "Nothing that can't be put off if something more interesting comes along."

"I still owe you that tour of my apartment and my studio." Milliardo looked the other man straight into the eyes. "Are you up for it? Wufei is out of town, remember."

Treize didn't blink or look away. He just smiled.

"Can't think of anything I would rather do."

####

Unable to stifle another yawn, Quatre covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he rang up a purchase.

"Sorry!"

"Long night?"

He nodded.

His customer, a elderly lady with a number of second hand romance novels and mysteries in her cart, smiled knowingly as she paid for her purchases.

"Oh to be young again."

Smiling back politely the young man handed her the bag with her books. "Have a nice day. And come again."

She waved at him as she slowly made her way out of the store. Once alone Quatre yawned again. Between the ball, Trowa demanding attention and a number of noisy nieces and nephews visiting for Sunday Brunch he had gotten less than 3 hours of sleep. Under other circumstances he would have taken the day off, but Howard had asked him to cover the store for the afternoon, as he had something important to take care of.

The bell above the door chimed and Quatre turned his head to see a young man about his age dressed in jeans and a T-shirt he might have slept in. His chocolate brown hair hadn't made the acquaintance of a comb in days it seemed. His eyes wandered through the store, but not as though he was looking for a book.

Instinctively Quatre tensed and his gaze went to Oscar. The orange tabby was lying in the window absorbed in self grooming, never sparing as much as a look for the stranger. Quatre relaxed a little. Maybe his run in with those vampires had made him paranoid. But then, just because you are paranoid it doesn't mean something isn't out there trying to suck your blood, eat your soul or chew off your head, right?

"Can I help you?" He asked, with a little more reservation than intended in his voice.

The young man turned his head looking at him for a long moment before he spoke.

"I'm looking for Howard. You are not him I assume."

Quatre shook his head.

"Howard isn't here right now."

"But he will return?"

"Maybe later today, tomorrow for sure," Quatre confirmed.

"Thanks." The young man nodded.

There was something unusual about him. But Quatre couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was sure he didn't sense any demonic aura from the stranger, but something rather close to it. He hesitated for a moment, then curiosity won over caution.

"Is there anything **I** can do for you?"

The young man shook his head, then seemed to change his mind. "Do you have any books about Schwarze Jäger?" he asked, the foreign words falling strangly from his tongue.

_Schwarze Jäger, that's German for Black Hunters, isn't it? _Quatre wondered. "I'm not sure. I would have to check."

"I see." His customer nodded. "I'll be back tomorrow."

The blonde watched as he walked out of the store and down the street without looking back.

_Curious guy!_ he thought as he turned on the computer at the sales desk, pulled up the inventory database and typed the words 'Schwarze' and 'Jäger' into the search box. Once again he was glad that he had managed to convince Howard to finally join the rest of the world in the 21st century, invest in a computer and set up this database.  
>Within seconds he had about half a dozen returns, a couple of novels, one documentary about a German World War II fighter squadron, and a Victorian travel account by an German adventurer touring West Africa in the company of a native tribe. Somehow Quatre had the feeling that neither of those topics was what his visitor had been looking for. The summery for the fifth entry however caught his attention. It was talking about the Schwarzen Jäger as a organization founded in the middle ages, with the goal of hunting and eradicating werewolves.<p>

_Werewolves!? _Quatre let out a whistle as he checked the inventory number under which the book was stored on the shelves.

####

"Very nice!" Treize sounded impressed as he looked around Milliardo's studio. He pretended not to notice the younger man hastily removing a few sketches from a board and slipping them into one of the drawers on his desk. "Did you paint all of those?"

"Hell no. Most of them are artists I admire or that have influenced my work in one way or another."

"I see." The tawny-haired man turned his head."What's that?" He threw out his chin toward the cloth covered statue in the middle of the room.

"Just the newest project I'm working on."

"Why is it covered?"

"To keep it from drying out. Otherwise the clay becomes unusable," Milliardo explained.

"Any chance I might get to peek beneath the sheet?" Treize inquired.

"Sorry," Milliardo put himself between the statue and the other man. "It's considered bad luck for an artist to show off his unfinished work."

"That's too bad. I certainly wouldn't want to be the cause of any ill fate. But I would like to be the first to see it when it is done."

"We will have to see about that," Milliardo replied evasively and laughed.

Treize had already moved on to a picture on the wall to the left of him. "That's Laguna Canyon isn't it?"

"Way back when I was still in grade school. Before the toll road was build," Milliardo confirmed. "I made the sketches on a field trip, but didn't actually paint it until a few years ago. Call it a trace of nostalgia."

Suddenly a phone rang in the other room.

"Darn," the young man swore. "I'll be right back."

Treize waited until Milliardo had left the studio. He could hear the phone being picked up.

"Yeah?"

Quickly and quietly the incubus prince dashed toward the covered statue, lifting the gray linen cloth just far enough to peek beneath it. A wide smile crossed his face as he studied his own body made of tan colored clay.

_He is good,_ Treize thought. _He is very good. _

Most mortals didn't recall their dreams vividly enough to turn them into such a detailed piece of art. But that only confirmed what he had suspected all along. Milliardo was no mere mortal.

In the other room the phone was being hung up, and the incubus let the cloth fall back into place.

##

Treize was studying another painting as Milliardo stepped back into his study. His gaze went to the partially finished statue. Was that just his imagination, or had the cover been moved?

"I really like this one," the older man remarked as he stepped away from the landscape drawing. "You do have a lot of talent."

"Well, thank you. I'll take your word for it." There was a trace of modesty in Milliardo's chuckle. Suddenly he grimaced and rubbed his neck.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really. A few days ago I fell asleep on the couch watching TV and woke up with a crick in my neck." He laughed again. "Never had that problem with my old, worn out couch. Shows you that style and comfort do not always go hand in hand."

"Let me see."

Before Milliardo could stop him the older man had stepped behind him and laid his hands onto the back of his neck. He pushed his thumbs into several pressure points, then massaged the tense tissue with the soft tips of his fingers.

Milliardo's felt his legs turn to pudding and his knees almost buckled as a gentle, pleasant warmth spread through his body.

_How is he doing this?_

He closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his brain began to cloud over with a sense of desire he had never experienced before.

"Better?"

Treize removed his hands, and the younger man almost moaned at the loss.

"Much better. What did you do to me?"

His tongue felt heavy as though he had just woken from deep slumber. The other man just smiled.

"I might not be able to draw a stick figure if my life depended on it, but I do have a few talents of my own," he remarked, in a voice that sounded sultry and sexy to Milliardo's ears.

The young man looked up, directly into a pair of blue eyes that seemed even more intense than usual. Treize's lips, slightly parted and glistening with moisture, practically begged to be kissed. Milliardo didn't fight the urge. He reached up, one hand cupping the back of the other man's head, pulling him toward him as his mouth covered those hot lips.

Treize didn't resist. His own hand found its way around Milliardo's hips encircling them, pulling him closer. He leaned against the younger man in a mixture of delicious willingness and masculine dominance. The kiss deepened, slowed, became something intense and erotic as the heat of their bodies seemed to grow.

Fingertips ghosted over Milliardo's face, soft and feather-light. His heart was pounding, and he could feel the other man's, too. Treize broke the kiss first, and Milliardo swayed slightly, his legs like rubber, his breath gone. He reached out but the other man pulled back ever so slightly.

"Are you sure you **want** to do this?"

There was no explanation needed as to what 'this' meant.

Milliardo snorted as he grabbed the front of the other man's shirt. "I wanted to do this since the evening we first met, you pea brain."

One eyebrow rose in a mixture of amusement and sarcasm.

"Pea brain?! Is that a term of endearment?"

"You talk too much," the blonde complained as he pressed his lips once again against Treize's, successfully stifling any further protest.

His fingers started to fumble with the buttons of the other man's shirt, one hand slipping beneath it exploring soft, hot skin.

Treize gave a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr. His lips parted slightly to allow a hot tongue to slip between them. He grabbed Milliardo tighter, and reached for the buckle of the young man's leather belt, unclasping it. Long fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans, probing. The lack of any kind underwear caused him to raise his eyebrow again.

_You really have been ready for this, haven't you?_

Milliardo gasped when those fingers pulled down the zipper of his pants, gently teasing his already hardening shaft. Somewhere deep in the back of his brain, a part that hadn't yet been clouded with pleasure and desire reminded him that this wasn't the most comfortable place to have sex. He broke their kiss just long enough to pant:

"Bedroom!"

Treize took the opportunity to grab Milliardo's t-shirt , pulling it over his head with one swift motion and dropping it to the floor.

As the two men slowly made their way into the master bedroom, kissing and groping, they left a trail of strewn garments like breadcrumbs on their way.

###

Milliardo woke, slightly disoriented. His eyes went to the window, from the position of the sun he could tell it was still early afternoon, and then to the prone figure beside him. Treize seemed to be sleeping, his body partially covered with one of the bed sheets.

The young man leaned back in the pillows, taking a few moments to bask in the afterglow of their sexual adventure. It had been more than just sex. It was desire, pleasure, lust and a struggle for dominance all rolled into one amazing experience, different from anything he had ever felt before. After the climax he couldn't even say if he fell asleep or passed out from pure exhaustion, he just knew it had been... Incredible!

The other man stirred.

"You are awake?"

"I wasn't sleeping." Treize turned to face him, studying him quietly for a few moments. "How do you feel?"

"Like I wrestled a 3000 pound Rhino and then ran a marathon. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat?"

"Wrestle a Rhino?" the other man asked, tongue in cheek.

"Idiot," Milliardo snorted as he moved closer, resting his head against Treize's chest. A strong arm snaked around his waist holding him tight. He closed his eyes with a smile.

"Do you have to go?"

"Not right away."

"Good, I wasn't going to let you. In fact..." Milliardo's eyes opened, sparkling with mirth as he looked up at the older man. "...I think I might just keep you here forever, chained up as my sex slave."

A low chuckle rumbled through Treize's chest. Milliardo could feel it resonate in his own body.

The sound of a gong suddenly rang through the bedroom and the older man jerked up.

"My phone!"

He looked around, the gong chimed again, from somewhere inside his pants which lay discarded on the floor. Treize managed grab them without having to climb out of bed, pulled out the phone and swiped the screen.

"Something important?" Milliardo asked, hoping that it wasn't the case.

Treize shook his head as he put the phone down on the nightstand. He fluffed up the pillow and settled against it in a sitting position.

"Just my cat... Snowball."

"Your cat sends your texts?" Milliardo pushed himself up onto his elbows. "What does he need, more Whiskas?"

"Not exactly." The other man laughed. "He sometimes triggers the motion sensors which turn on the surveillance cameras., and then the security system sends me an alert."

"Surveillance cameras... motion sensors...," the blonde snorted. "Where do you live, Fort Knox?"

Treize just smiled.

"Let me see your cat." Milliardo demanded, holding out his hand.

"He's probably already gone." The other man replied as he reached for the phone and turned it on. Sure enough, the video feedback coming from the camera showed nothing but a empty hall.

"Oh well," Milliardo shrugged. "You know, I would have figured you more of a dog person."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You seem like someone who likes to be in control. People like that don't adopt cats. Cats don't like to be controlled, they like to do their own thing. Did you know cats are the only animals that technically domesticated themselves? "

"So I've heard, Dr. Freud." Treize smirked. "And for your information, I didn't adopt him, it was more the other way around. - Say, do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Go right ahead," Milliardo gestured at the door to the bathroom. "There are fresh towels in the cabinet under the sink. Just drop them into the hamper when you are done."

"Thanks." the older man climbed out of bed, making no attempt to cover himself when the sheet slipped away.

Milliardo studied his perfect body from behind as he picked up his clothes and made his way into the bathroom.

"Would you like me to join you?"

Turning his head just as he stepped through the door, Treize smiled slightly. "Very tempting, but I have a feeling that might put us right back where we started."

"And what exactly would be wrong with that?" the blonde asked innocently

##

The door closed and Milliardo once again settled back into the pillows, a smile on his face. In the bathroom the shower was turned on. He could hear the water running. For a moment he considered if he should get up as well, when the now familiar sound of the gong chimed once again through the room.

_Maybe Snowball is back?_

The young man grabbed the phone, pushed the power button and swiped the screen to unlock the device. To his disappointment he found the video screen empty again. But just as he was about to put the phone down again he noticed the app had options that allowed him to switch between different cameras and angles. A impish smile crossed his face as he thought of the possibilities that opened.

With a quick glance at the bathroom door he pulled down the menu, selected a different camera and started his own private little tour through the house. Everything looked very stylish and very modern, not that he had expected anything less from Treize.

He certainly has taste, he thought as he looked around the living room, then chuckled. _I spoke soon._

In front of a large, natural stone, fireplace he noticed a large animal rug. It was one of those white tiger rugs with the stuffed head still attached. Not only did it look badly done, it also seemed completely out of place in the room.

I thought those things went out of style at the same time as people stopped wearing fur coats? Maybe it's not real. Or perhaps a heirloom, passed down through the family? Someone should tell him, it looks kitschy.

No sign of Snowball, though. Milliardo angled the camera to the left when he suddenly noticed some movement...or thought he did. He frowned as he moved back toward the fire place and the tiger rug. For just one moment there he could have sworn the tiger's tail twitched.

The water was turned off in the bathroom, and Milliardo decided he didn't want Treize to find him playing with his phone. He turned off the device and put it back onto the nightstand., then climbed out of bed. He grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser under the window and slipped them on.

Moments later Treize walked back into the bedroom, his hair damp and slicked back .

"How about a cup coffee?" Milliardo asked.

"I'd love some."

###

"I can't believe he disqualified me," Wufei grumbled as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the apartment's door. "Unsportsmanlike conduct my ass. The guy had been badgering me for the entire fight. I make one single retort and I get kicked out. Talk about selective hearing."

Angrily he kicked off his shoes. From the living room he could hear soft music.

"Milliardo, I'm home!"

The young man looked up and his heart nearly skipped a beat.

The room looked like there had been a fight. Pillows were lying on the ground along with the crystal candle holder that usually sat on the coffee table and pieces of what looked like a cup or dish. Milliardo was sitting on the couch. Looming directly over him like a bad omen, was Treize Khushrenada. He had one hand pressed against Milliardo's chest as though he was holding him down. The younger man didn't struggle, perhaps he was under some kind of spell, as Treize prepared to...

Wufei didn't wait to find out what the incubus prince was about to do. He dropped his sports bag, unzipped it and drew Nataku with almost the same motion, and attacked...

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 14  
><strong>

The demon was fast. Although completely caught off guard, he managed to avoid Wufei's blade by throwing himself out of the way and diving behind the loveseat. With an angry growl he grabbed the leather two-seater, shoving it toward his attacker with inhuman strength.

Wufei dodged the piece of furniture then jumped over it, Nataku glowing brightly in his hands.

Meanwhile Milliardo had jumped to his feet.

"Wu!" he yelled."What the hell are you doing?"

He was clearly bewildered, but at least whatever hex he had been under seemed to be broken.

"Move!" Wufei yelled when the blonde stepped into his path, trying to stop him from going after Treize again.

"Stop that!"

Milliardo was obviously more confused than it looked. Having to keep him safe while fighting the incubus was Wufei's first priority, of course. But it did make things a lot more difficult.

Suddenly the demon had a weapon too, a sword with a thin blade which glowed and crackled with some kind of powerful energy.

_This has to be the legendary demon blade. Master O was right, I couldn't even sense it's presence._ The young guardian grabbed his own weapon tighter. _But it doesn't matter... _

"I won't let you harm him, Demon!"

###

Milliardo's eyes went wide as he watched the two men clash, their swords exchanging sparks of crackling energy when the blades met. What in the world was going on?

Only moments earlier he and Treize had been fooling around, pelting one another with pillows. He remembered one of the pillows hitting the heavy crystal candle holder, it tipping over falling onto and breaking the empty coffee cup...something hitting his face and Treize forcing him down onto the couch to check that he hadn't gotten any fragments of porcelain or glass into his eyes. And then suddenly Wufei storming into the room, wielding his sword like a berserker yelling something about demons...

He had not the slightest idea as to what was happening.

"Stop it!" The young man tried again, but to no avail. Neither man seemed to take notice.

"Stand back, Milliardo!" Treize panted as he blocked another of Wufei's attacks with his blade. "I don't want you to get hurt."

With a wild scream Wufei struck again. He seemed to have the upper hand, attacking over and over, while the other man was completely on the defensive. Was it possible Treize wasn't fighting seriously?

_They aren't listening! _

Milliardo's hands curled to fists, his body tensed, his jaws tightening as he felt a wave of ice-cold anger wash over him.

_They aren't even listening!_

Suddenly the ground beneath him and even the air started to vibrate. Window panes rattled in their frames.

"STOP - IT!"

The building shook violently, glass shattered, not only in the windows of his own apartment but also next door and on the floors below. Dozens of car alarms went off in the parking lot, their wailing mixing with the barking of dogs all over the neighborhood.

_What happened; an earthquake? _

The shaking brought Milliardo back to his senses and he suddenly realized that the room had fallen silent. Both Treize and Wufei, their swords still crossed above their heads, stared at him in what could only be described as utter astonishment.

Treize recovered first. Abruptly the blade in his hand vanished. Wufei, who had been pushing against it with his own bodyweight lost his balance, stumbling forward and toward his opponent. Treize grabbed him and with the same ease he had earlier shoved away the couch, threw the young man across the room. Like a ragdoll Wufei was flung backwards. He collided with the wall where he collapsed stunned and dazed by the impact.

Treize stopped for one moment, looking at Milliardo as though he was about to say something, then crossed his arms in front of his face and without hesitation jumped through the shattered remains of the living room window. More glass crumbled as his body broke through and then disappeared out of sight.

"NO!"

Horrified Milliardo dashed toward the window. He hesitated before looking down, terrified of what he expected to see. But there was no bloody, shattered body on the pavement, not sign of Treize whatsoever, as though he had simply vanished into thin air.

Behind him Wufei was scrambling back to his feet. Still somewhat dazed he made his way to the window and swore.

"Damn it! He got away."

_Got away?!_

Milliardo turned, a mixture of shock, amazement and confusion written across his face. His roommate was a mess. Blood was dripping from a cut on his ear, and from several deep scratches across his arms. His face was bruised and his right eye was beginning to swell. He was still clenching his sword.

"What the hell just happened?"

Wufei dropped his head. The sword in his hand stopped glowing.

"Yes, I believe an explanation is in order. "

"You think so?" Milliardo glared.

####

On the roof above the penthouse apartment the incubus prince leaned against the wall of the elevator maintenance shed, closing his eyes for a few heartbeats whilst he took several deep and even breaths.

_That was close; too close. He is stronger than he looks. Some day it might come down to him or me; but I don't think HE would ever forgive me if I had to kill the little dragon. _

For a moment there, when Wufei burst into the room he had been convinced that he had walked into a carefully set trap, but Milliardo seemed genuinely surprised…and angry.

_That power; I've never seen anything like it. Hell, he doesn't need a guardian to protect him unless it is from himself. _

His right arm, where Wufei's blade had caught him, throbbed with pain. His once immaculate shirt was torn, bloodied and scorched in places. Blood was trickling down the side of his face from a cut above his temple. Treize wiped it away carelessly with the back of his hand. As usual the use of the demon blade had taken most of his power and left him worn out, but the sound of slowly approaching sirens reminded him that this was neither the place nor the time for a rest.

There was a fire escape on the other side of the building. Treize managed to make his way down to the ground floor without being noticed. He hurried to reach his car, reached into his pocket and cursed, realizing that he had left behind his keys, both for his house and the car, along with his jacket.

Luckily the BMW had an electric lock which was no match for magic. Although it took Treize less than a few seconds to break into his own car, the surge of power he had to use to do so left him even more exhausted. He leaned his forehead against the car for a few seconds, trying to recover.

"Hey man, you okay?"

His head snapped around, eyes narrowing dangerously. A young man, maybe college aged, with a large long haired dog stood only a few feet away eyeing him suspiciously.

Treize accessed the situation in the fraction of a second, his hand closing slowly, ready to activate the demon blade in the blink of an eye. If need be he still had enough power to take down both of them, the dog first... But considering that this place was going to be swarming with police and firefighters any moment from now, that was probably not the wisest of choices. He relaxed his hand and put on a somewhat tired smile.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"You know you are bleeding, right?"

Treize looked down his arm; blood was dripping from the tips of his fingers, and nodded. He mumbled something about the earthquake, broken glass and driving himself to the emergency room.

The young man nodded in response, but asked.

"Are you sure it's okay? I can call an ambulance if you want."

Treize shook his head. "Its fine, really."

"Alright then. Take care,,Man."

Nodding again, the incubus prince slipped behind the wheel of his car while the Good Samaritan and his dog continued on their walk.

Treize grabbed the set of extra keys from the glove department, congratulating himself for having the good foresight of putting them there, and started the vehicle. Right now he wasn't sure if he still had the power needed to hotwire a car. Not to mention that, considering how little he actually knew about car mechanics, he might have succeeded in blowing it up rather than starting the vehicle.

The incubus was leaving the parking lot just as the first fire truck and police cars arrived. He let them pass and drove off carefully, making sure to obey each and every traffic law. The last thing be needed right now was to be pulled over for a moving violation.

####

"What do you mean, 'He isn't human'?" Milliardo asked, his brows knitted into a frown. "You are not trying to tell me he is an alien, are you? What have you been smoking?"

"No! No, he is very much from this planet," Wufei replied seriously. "just not from this realm. I know this might sound crazy, but he is a demon; a kind of vampire. Have you ever heard of an Incubus?"

"He is a what?"

"An Incubus," Wufei repeated as he pressed a icepack against his face.

The two men were sitting across from one another at the low coffee table, still surrounded by broken glass, pillows and overturned the furniture.

Milliardo just shook his head, as though he simple couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Demons? That's…that's…" He paused as though it took him a few moments to wrap his mind around the idea. Then suddenly he looked straight at Wufei when sudden realization hit. "The earthquake…just now…. It wasn't really a earthquake, was it?"

The guardian shook his head. "No."

"And it wasn't caused by the two of you fighting?" It was a statement rather than a question.

"No, I think it had something to do with your outburst of anger. Milliardo, you have got to understand…"

Milliardo shook his head again. He couldn't…no he didn't **want** to believe that he was able to do something like that. "Humans don't just cause earthquakes. Unless…" Suddenly all the other strange things he had noticed of late came to mind; his motorcycle crash...his ability to heal faster than most…the flower vase stopping mid-air... "...unless I'm not really human either. Wufei, who...what am I?"

His roommate couldn't even look him into the eyes.

"You are not human," he confirmed evasively.

"And what does that make you?"

"I'm a guardian. I was assigned to protect you?"

"Protect me from what?"

"From the likes of him. From those who might try to use you for your powers."

"Wait! This can't be. My father was a dentist and a volunteer firefighter, my mother worked at his lab as a technician. They spent their vacation time volunteering with 'Doctors without Borders'. They were humans, not some kind of monsters. That would make me human, too."

"I'm sorry, Milliardo." Wufei replied. " I never meant for you to find out this way, but your parents...the people you know as your parents were guardians just like me. They had agreed to take care of you after you real mother turned you over to our protection."

"My real mother...Mom and Dad weren't my real parents?" The idea almost took his breath away for a moment. "And **you **knew all of that?"

Wufei dropped his gaze as he nodded. "More or less. I was told what I needed to know when I took the assignment."

"The Assignment?! Is that all I am for you? A f-ing assignment?"

"No!" Wufei swallowed. "It's nothing like that. That's not how I meant it. Believe me," he tried to protest. "I'm also your friend."

"A hell of a friend you are." Milliardo snorted. "You have known about all of this and you didn't even bother to tell me. Why? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We were considering telling you but we decided it would be better if you didn't know...not until you were ready."

"You decided...?" Milliardo clenched his fists as he shot up from his seat. "You arrogant...self-righteous... bastard. Where do you and your 'guardians' come off deciding whether or not I should know the truth about myself? Just who do you think you are?"

Once again the trembling started and whatever glass still remained in the living room windows began to vibrate.

"Milliardo!" Wufei held out his hand in a calming gesture. "Please settle down."

Milliardo closed his eyes momentarily and took a few deep breaths. The tremors eased and then stopped.

"I'm sorry, Milliardo. I truly am. But you don't understand how dangerous demons like him can be. If I hadn't stepped in when he tried to attack you…"

"Attack me? Is that what you think happened?" The blonde laughed but it didn't sound amused. When he told Wufei what really had taken place his roommate seemed stunned.

"But…He was pinning you down…I saw."

"You saw what you expected to see…what you **wanted **to see," Milliardo spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "Get out," he demanded quietly and calmly. "Pack your things… and get out."

"Milliardo…?!" Wufei started but was cut off instantly.

"I'm going to spend the night somewhere else. When I get back in the morning I want you to be gone."

With that the young man walked out of the room and into the hall. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed his jacket from the coat hanger by the door, pausing briefly as his eyes caught the dark gray blazer Treize had worn earlier. Then he left the apartment without so much as another word.

###

Wufei swallowed and closed his eyes.

_By the ancestors, what a mess I have gotten myself into. _

He put down the icepack, it didn't seem to help much anyway, and looked around, taking in all the damage in the room.

_I'm sorry, Milliardo. I never wanted you to find out like this. I have been trying to tell you. But I guess I didn't try hard enough. Maybe I was afraid of how you might react. But that's no excuse._

He sighed and looked around one more time. _I need to call Master O. The Elders need to know about this. What's going to happen now? Milliardo is more powerful than any of us had imagined. I don't think there is anyone, even amongst the elders, strong enough to set up another shield around him._

The sound of the telephone ringing startled the young man from his thoughts. He stared at the device for a moment, then rose to his feet and picked up at the third ring.

"Peacecraft residence. Wufei speaking."

####

Treize entered the house through the garage. The lights of the alarm system keypad started to blink when the backdoor opened and he quickly punched in his security code. The throbbing in his right arm had turned into a constant dull pain and his fingers were feeling numb and stiff. His other wounds had stopped bleeding and were beginning to close already. Most demons were fast healers depending on their level of power.

As he passed through the small laundry room his ears picked up a faint sound from somewhere inside the house, as though someone was moving around on soft-soled shoes. The incubus stopped in his tracks, summoning his powers to activate his weapon. The fingers of his left hand closed tightly around the sword that he could feel even before it became visible. He could fight with his left almost as well as with his right hand.

Another sound, this time closer. Someone...something was approaching. The Demon Blade materialized in his hand. Suddenly a stout, rounded feline head, about the size of a large soccer ball, appeared in the doorway, followed by the rest of an impressive looking white tiger.

Treize relaxed with a annoyed huff, and the sword disappeared again.

"Hell, Snowball, you have got to stop doing that, unless you are prepared to continue life with your head separated from the rest of your body."

Apparently unimpressed by the threat, the large cat chuffed and brushed his head against the incubus' leg. Snowball was large, even for a tiger; a good 600 pounds give or take a few, with not as much as an ounce of fat on his body.

Treize had to brace himself to not be knocked over by the friendly greeting. He huffed again even as he paused to scratch the animal between the ears before pushing him out of his way so that he could get to the keypad to rearm the alarm system.

Snowball raised his head, sniffing Treize's torn and blood stained shirt, opened his mouth slightly, wrinkled his nose and flehmed. He gave a low disapproving grunt, turned and strolled soundlessly back to his favorite spot in front of the fireplace where he stretched out with a yawn that showed off his impressive set of canines and began licking his enormous paws.

"Well excuse me." The incubus prince snorted in a mixture of sarcasm and humor as he headed into the bedroom. "Perhaps you'd like me to keep a change of clothes in the car so that I can change before coming home next time I get into a fight?"

He didn't bother to close the door behind himself as he walked into the bathroom to turn on the shower. A glancing look into the mirror, as he passed it, caused him to grimace. Bloody, bruised and with scorch marks all over his clothes and body he **did** look a mess. He unbuttoned his shirt and winced when he tried to pull it over his injured arm. Parts of the fabric had literally burned into his skin where the guardian's sword had touched him. A painful hiss escaped his lips as one of the wounds ripped open and started to bleed again.

In the living room the large white tiger interrupted his grooming routine and raised his head, as thought he sensed something was wrong. Gracefully he got to his feet and padded into the bedroom, hesitating only briefly at the door.

Too tired to argue, Treize overlooked the obvious infringement of their 'No cats in the bedroom' rule and gave the tiger a questioning look.

"What do you want?"

Snowball studied him with amber colored eyes for a few moments, then sniffed the cuts on Treize's arm. The wounds were red and inflamed. He started to lick them slowly.

Treize winced and closed his eyes. The tiger's tongue, rough and barbed like any cat's tongue, felt like sandpaper grating across his skin, the saliva burned in his wounds. By the time Snowball was finished, the angry red swelling had gone down considerably and turned a pale pinkish color.

It wasn't much, but it was more than he himself would have managed right now.

"Thanks." The incubus scratched the large cat between his ears, eliciting a deep content purr from the animal.

####

Milliardo wasn't sure how long he had driven around aimlessly, trying to make sense of everything that had happened earlier, when he suddenly found himself in a very familiar neighborhood. Without thinking or even realizing it he had ended up right outside Noin's duplex. He had been here many time before; in fact he had helped her moving into the place about a year ago. _A year? Had it really been that long already?_

He parked the car on the other side of the street and walked up to the cream-colored, two story house with the chocolate-brown trimmings. There was no doorbell…or if there was one he hadn't found it yet…so he rapped his knuckles against the dark wood.

"Coming!" a familiar voice called out and moments later his friend opened the door, dressed in what she considered comfort clothing; a pair of loose jogging pants and an old T-shirt that , considering how big it looked on her, probably once belonged to an ex-boyfriend.

"Milliardo?!" Noin exclaimed surprised. They were friends, yes. But he usually didn't show up at her house unannounced.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked.

"No, of course not. Don't be silly. Come in!"

She stepped aside to let him enter and closed the door behind him. Milliardo slipped off his shoes in the hall, and followed her into the living room. The TV was running, a newscast about the earthquake. A reporter was talking to a firefighter right in front of his apartment building, and in the background he could make out a couple of police cars and ambulances with flashing lights.

_I did this! I can't believe I did something like that._

"I called your house," Noin told him as she gestured to the couch. "To see if you were alright. They say the epicenter was pretty close to where you live. Wufei picked up, he told me you had left and he didn't know when you would be back. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything is fine. Some broken windows and a couple of fallen pictures." Milliardo thrust his chin out toward the TV as he took a seat. "Did they say if there were any injuries?"

"Just minor cuts and bruises from what I understand. Mostly shattered windows and shattered nerves."

_Thank God!_

"I guess it's true what they say," she added. "If you've got to be in an earthquake, you want it to be in California."

"I suppose."

"You sure you are alright?" Noin looked at him skeptically.

Milliardo somehow managed a grin. "A little shook up; pun intended," he claimed, and then after a brief pause. "Do you mind if I spend the night? Broken windows and stuff. Need to call a repairman tomorrow."

"Umm…sure. You know this place only has one bedroom, right? But you are welcome to the couch."

"Thanks," he nodded. "The couch will be just fine."

Milliardo's eyes caught an array of photos and old newspaper clipping spread over the little couch table, as though Noin had been working on something when he arrived.

"So, what are you up to?" he asked, welcoming the change of subject. "Scrapbooking?"

"Na, just some…personal stuff."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"That's not how I meant it." she replied. "Beer?"

"Thanks, I'd love one."

His friend turned off the TV as she rose to her feet, and left the room only to return a few moments later with two bottles of dark ale. She handed him one of the bottles and moved the paperwork aside so that he had room to put it down.

As she settled back down into her armchair Noin picked up one of the photographs from the pile.

"Remember last spring when I went to Italy, to clean out my grandmother's house after she died?"

"Yeah."

"I found some rather interesting stuff in her attic; stuff about my family I had never known before."

"Oh?" Milliardo looked at her as he took a sip of his ale.

"Yeah. My great-great-grandmother, her name was Lucrezia by the way… Thanks Great-great-grandmother… disappeared one day in the fall of 1882."

"Disappeared?" he echoed.

"Yeah. She left her house one day never to be seen or heard of again, leaving behind her infant son, my great-grandfather with his governess."

"Maybe she just ran off? You know, post partum depression and stuff."

"I don't think so."

"Or what about her husband? Was he investigated?"

"She was a widow. Her husband died shortly before their son was born in some conflict in North Africa. I think I have a picture of him, hold on."

Noin rummaged through the pile of old photos, eventually finding what she was looking for and handing the old-fashioned grayish brown photograph to her friend. It showed a dashing young man with dark hair and a neatly trimmed moustache dressed in some sort of uniform Milliardo had seen before in old period plays or movies.

"Handsome fellow, isn't he? Great-great grandma Lucrezia had taste," the young man grinned. "So what happened after she went missing?"

"From what I have gathered the family took in her son and raised him. They were rather wealthy and influential at that time and as far as I know no stone was left unturned trying to find her. But it's like she just evaporated out of her pantyhose."

"I don't think they had pantyhose back then," Milliardo replied cheekily, earning himself a playful smack on the head.

"You know what I mean." Noin huffed. "I have been doing a little research since I got back. According to a servant, Lucrezia left that afternoon to meet someone; someone she had been seeing a lot around that time."

"Seeing as in 'being courted by'?" Milliardo asked. "That might explain a lot. Maybe her family didn't like the idea of her dating so soon after her husband's death. They were funny about that kind of stuff back then from what I understand. Or he might not have been into kids. Maybe the two of them just ran off and eloped, went to America or something."

"Well, I have been considering that possibility. At the moment I'm trying to figure out who said gentleman was. I still have several more boxes of her stuff to go through. Maybe I'll get lucky."

"Is it really that important?" Milliardo mused. "Don't get me wrong, but it happened a long time ago."

"I know. But is just seems so intriguing. You know me, I never can resist a good mystery. And I have learned a lot about my great-great-grandmother. She was an impressive woman, a fighter. I can empathize with that. When her husband died she didn't just sit around mourning, she moved on. She was determined to be more than just a 19th century housewife. You know she was trying to write a book?"

"Did she?" Milliardo laughed. "She really got you, didn't she?"

"Well she was part of my family, part of my past. Just imagine, if our theory that she ran off with that guy was true then there might somewhere be a whole other branch of my family tree I have no idea about. Besides knowing her helps me to realize who and what I am today. "

"Do you really think so? Do you really believe that our parents...our grandparents... determine who we are? I like to believe that it is our choices that shape us, not our genes. Is heritage really that important?"

Noin blinked and looked at him, slightly puzzled. "Somehow I have the feeling this isn't about Great-great-grandmother Lucrezia anymore. You wanna talk about it, Milliardo?"

He gave a little laugh. "That's what always amazes me about you, Noin. You read people like a Dick and Jane book." He paused, thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head. "Sorry, but it's not something I want to share.; not yet at least."

She simply nodded.

"Whenever you are ready and need someone to listen, I'll be here."

"Thanks." Milliardo, feeling better already, put on a smirk. "Sooo… what are we going to do for dinner?"

"How about take out? I order, you pay."

"I can live with that. Just one request, though. No tofu!"

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note: More coming soon (really soon)


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 15**

"Rise and Shine!"

Walking into the living room with two mugs of freshly brewed coffee, Noin expected to find her friend still asleep where she had left him the night before. But to her surprise the couch was empty, the blanket and pillow she had loaned Milliardo neatly folded and stack up.

"Milliardo?!" The young woman frowned slightly, then her eyes caught a note that had been left on the low coffee table.

She walked around the table, cocking her head to read it. It really wasn't much of a note, just a piece of paper ripped from one of her notebooks and two words scribbled across it.

Thank You

Noin's frown deepened as her gaze shifted between the two coffee mugs in her hands. Finally she simply shrugged. _I guess I'll have a double dose of caffeine this morning._

She would have been lying if she said that she wasn't at least a little worried about her friend, considering his behavior the night before. But she had known Milliardo for long enough to know that when he was ready to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him he would be back.

####

It was still early. The first morning classes weren't scheduled until 9 am, and even Master O and the other instructors wouldn't start arriving for another 30 - 45 minutes. Wufei, taking advantage of that solitude and the serenity of the dojo, was trying to lose himself in meditation. However, he found it difficult to focus, and his mind kept returning to everything that had happened the day before.

_I messed up! I really messed up! I was entrusted with a crucial mission and I blew it. _Dark brows furrowed. _Fuck the mission. I just hope Milliardo is alright. In spite of what he might think of me right now, I really do consider him my friend, and the last thing I want is for him to get hurt._

Last night, after leaving Milliardo's apartment, Wufei had called Master O and met with him here at the dojo a short time later to make his report. O had listened to him without a word of criticism or reproach, then offered him the couch in the backroom for the night and told him that he was going to contact the elders regarding the issue.

_I wonder what's going to happen now? _ the young man mused. _What will the elders decide to do about Milliardo… about _ _Khushrenada...? _ _I underestimated him. Master O warned me about him, but I still underestimated him. Have I become complacent because I have never met anyone of his caliber before? I did get him, though. _Wufei thought, not without pride. _I was able to_ _wound him. He is not invulnerable to Nataku. Perhaps…_ his frown deepened… _this is the reason why I was born with the ability to wield the sacred blade._

Wufei still remembered…

:::Begin flashback :::

_It was at the day of his grandmother's funeral; the family had gathered at the main house. It was nothing like the usual family gatherings. All the women were crying and the men stood around with sad faces, exchanging stories of times long ago. He was only 5 years old, too young to understand the concept of death. _

_His mother had told him that grandmother was gone, passed away. _

_'Gone where', he had asked _

_'To a place far away,' his mother had answered. 'where she would be together with Gong-Gong again.'_

_He didn't remember his Gong-Gong, his mother's dad, but recalled Po-Po speaking about him fondly. So, if she had gone to see him, that was a good thing, was it not? So, why was everyone so upset? What really concerned him, though, was if Po-Po was going to be back in time for Chinese New Year. Because if she wasn't, who was going to make him his favorite pork buns? _

_All the grownups had gathered inside the shrine for prayers and to light incense, while his cousins, all older than him, were playing outside, fighting with sticks and plastic swords. He wanted to join them but they told him he was too little. Angrily he went into the house, looking for a weapon of his own so that he could show them. When he could not find anything he remembered the old sword that was kept in the shrine. It was thought to have belonged to his great-grandfather. Nobody had used it for as long as he could remember, and he was sure no one would notice if he 'borrowed' it for just a bit. _

_But when he, after some trouble, finally managed to pull the sword from its sheath the blade started to glow in his tiny hands. Startled, Wufei dropped the weapon with a cry of surprise. _

_As everyone in the room turned towards him, the boy ducked his head, convinced that he was in big trouble now._

_"I'm sorry," he mumbled._

_A tall, bald man, dressed in a black suit westerners wear, stepped forward. he asked him to pick up the sword and hand it to him._

_Wufei shook his head, clasping his hands together behind his back._

_"It is burning." he said. "Didn't you see?"_

_The man smiled mildly. "What is your name, boy?"_

_"Chang Wu Fei."_

_"Don't be afraid, Wufei," the man told him. "It won't hurt you. Trust me."_

_Sure enough, as Wu finally picked up the sword it started to glow again, but instead of burning him the blue flames filled him with a feeling of strength and inner peace that he had never known before. _

_A number of collective gasps erupted in the room, and as Wufei looked up he realized that everyone was staring at him and the glowing sword. _

_There wasn't a soul in the Long clan that wasn't familiar with the story of the sacred sword, but nobody alive had ever seen the blade come to life. For three generations it had laid dormant, waiting for its new master to be born._

_"Well done, Chang Wufei!" The strange man, who he later came to know as Master O, nodded approvingly and held out his hand. "I believe we have found Nataku's new bearer."_

:::End flashback:::

From that day on the sacred sword had rarely ever left Wufei's side. Soon thereafter he had started his training to become a guardian under Master O's care, first in China and later in America.

A noise from behind him ripped the young man from his musings, and he turned his head just in time to see the master slip off his shoes by the door. O was carrying a paper bag with the logo of the bagel shop down the street. He gestured his pupil to come along as he walked toward his office.

Wufei rose to his feet, slowly and gracefully. He brushed some specks of imaginary dirt off his black pants and took a deep breath before he followed.

"So?" he inquired impatiently the moment he set foot over the threshold.

The master was digging through his shopping bag, removing bagels and little tubs of cream cheese.

"Blueberry, roasted onion or plain?" he asked calmly.

"Plain." Wufei sighed, much more interested in finding out what the elders had said than breakfast at the moment.

O put on a pot of tea, put the bagel and a plastic knife onto a paper plate and pushed it toward Wufei.

"Eat!" he commanded before slipping into the seat across from his pupil. "It's vital for you to keep your strength up. You look as though you haven't gotten much sleep either."

With another sigh the young man reached for the knife, slathering a generous amount of cream cheese onto his bagel.

"I'm going to China," the master suddenly announced.

Wufei's head snapped up. "To see the elders?"

O nodded silently.

"Alone?"

Another nod. "I did not think it was a good idea for both of us to leave town right now. My flight leaves at 2:30. Wang will take care of things here at the dojo. I have already spoken to him. That leaves you in charge of any guardian related issues that may come up in my absence."

Surprised, Wufei opened his mouth. He had never been left in charge of anything.

The master, apparently reading his mind, raised his hand. "I'm sure you can handle it."

The young man gave one curt nod. "Thank you."

####

"Lieutenant!"

One of the uniformed officers jumped up to hold open the door as Otto made his way into the station with two coffee carriers filled with steaming beverages.

"Thanks."

The tall, dark-haired man set the cardboard carriers down on the counter and gestured for his colleges to help themselves.

A jumble of 'Thanks' and 'Thank you, Lieutenant!'s erupted as everyone in the room hurried to arm himself with a cup of caffeinated goodness. Otto had the good foresight to hold on to his own drink before anyone could snatch it.

"There are two more in the car," he told those who weren't quick enough. "Parker, will you get them?"

Parker, the man who had opened the door for him earlier nodded. "Got it, Lieutenant."

It was something like a long standing tradition, from what Otto understood, for someone to bring in coffee on Monday morning, and the first time that his name had come up in the rotation. He had only recently been transferred behind the 'orange curtain', promoted to Lieutenant and put in charge of the violent crime unit. Something that didn't go over too well with some people, especially older officers who considered themselves more qualified for the job. And even amongst those who didn't care about that, he was still considered 'the new kid on the block'. Participating in traditions like the coffee run or the Friday night baseball league was just one way for him to show that he considered himself one of the guys.

As he made his way to his office, balancing his coffee cup and a stack of files he had picked up from the desk clerk, Otto noticed that over the weekend the temporary paper sign on his office door had been replaced with a permanent one made from black plastic with bold gold lettering. It read "Lieutenant Otto Fisher"

Originally his family had called themselves Fischer, the German way. But somehow along the way someone had decided to Americanize the name by dropping the 'c'.

Otto was the descendant of German immigrants. His family had come across the 'big pond' sometime between the first and second World War. He had been named after his great-grandfather who had been a prominent big game hunter in his time: a man of imposing stature with steel blue eyes and a 'Kaiser Wilhelm' beard, who thought he was doing humanity a favor by killing off precious animals and hunting them to extinction.

Otto remembered a picture on his grandmother's wall, showing her father leaning proudly against the body of a black Rhino which he had just shot. He tried telling himself that things were different then. His great-grandfather was a man of his time. Whether or not he fully understand the consequences of his actions was hard to tell.

If Otto had inherited anything else from his ancestor it had to be his keep eye. The lineup of marksmanship trophies on his shelf attested to that.

Slipping into the leather chair behind his desk, the lieutenant steeled himself with another gulp of coffee before opening the first of the file folders. Within thirty minutes or so he had read through the pile and sorted the files neatly by importance. There were a couple of domestic disturbances, a brawl outside a nightclub, a number of burglaries; a couple of car stereos… a laptop…a high performance mountain bike… a garden gnome… _Seriously? _

Otto downed the last of his coffee, then picked the one folder he had put separate from the rest. A missing teenager. His parents had called the police Sunday morning after they realized he hadn't returned from a party the night before. Sergeant Hernandez had already taken their statement, but he wanted to follow up personally; see if they could tell him any more now. He signed, knowing that this wasn't going to be easy. In his experience, finding missing people was near to impossible, especially if they didn't want to be found.

####

Milliardo's silver corvette stood out in the student parking section like a sore thumb. Wufei recognized the car the moment he walked onto the lot, and then noticed the long-haired young man in the driver seat. His steps faltered and he slowed, almost to a halt.

For a few long moments Milliardo did not move either. But finally, as though he had made a decision, the young man threw back his head, pulled the key from the ignition and slowly extracted his long limbs from the sports car.

Wufei stopped, waited and returned the nod the blonde gave him as he got closer.

"Can we talk?"

"Yes, of course," the younger man shrugged. "Listen, if this is about the boxes I left at your place…? I was going to send someone to pick them up later today."

"It is not." Milliardo assured him quietly. "Coffee?"

"Sure."

They walked to the little indy coffee shop down the block, one of dozens around campus, simply because it was easier than trying to find parking anywhere in the area at this time of day. Neither of the two men looked at one another and the air was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Wufei knew right then at there, that even if they could patch up things between them, it would never be the same as it used to be… at least not for a long time.

They ordered their drinks, Milliardo paid, and carried them to a table way in the back near the door to the restrooms, where nobody liked to sit.

The blonde's eyes were locked onto the surface of his coffee cup as he said: "About what happened last night… those things you told me…" he paused then suddenly looked up. "I want…no I **need** to know more."

"I agree." Wufei nodded.

Milliardo seemed to relax a little, as though relieved by that answer.

"Listen, I'm sorry. Like I said, I never wanted for you to find out this way. I have been trying to tell you for the past few days, but… I guess I didn't try hard enough."

"Forget it." the blonde stared into his coffee cup again, as though the answer to all his questions could be found in the bubbly foam on the surface. "You said Mom and Dad weren't my real… then who are my parents? You mentioned my mother giving me up. Who is she? And what about my father? Was he human? Are they alive? Who…what am I? Are there others like me? What about those 'powers' I have been feeling? And why are you 'guarding' me? Is it to protect me, or to protect others from me?"

Question after question shot out of Milliardo, as fast as bullets from a semi-automatic. Wufei felt the urge to raise his hand to stop the onslaught, but instead he just waited silently until the older man finally paused.

"That's a lot of questions," he said, and he could feel Milliardo tense again.

"I will tell you what I know," Wufei added quickly, not wanting the other man to think he was trying to be evasive. "but I'm afraid even I don't have all the answers."

"Fair enough."

"Let's start with your mother… Being an artist, I assume you know what muses are?"

"Inspirations." Milliardo replied, slightly puzzled.

"Yes, but did you know, they exist, in physical form? Your mother, you see, is a muse… No!" Wufei shook his head. "Strike that. Your mother is THE muse. Leanan Sidhe, a Celtic fairy, who inspires genius."

Milliardo frowned slightly but said nothing, and Wufei continued.

"She offers her gift to artists: musicians…painters… writers, many of which have become very, famous in their own time or after their deaths."

"Well, that's a nice thing to do, isn't it?" the older man remarked.

"I suppose. But Fairies do not give their powers away for free, Milliardo. They bargain for them. It's in their nature. In Leanan's case, she offers her inspirations in exchange for love."

"Love?!" Milliardo laughed quietly, almost relieved. "And for a moment there I thought you were going to say she demands their first born son or something in exchange."

"No, nothing like that." Wufei replied, but there was something in the way he said it. "As for your father… I take it you have heard of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?"

"Dürer's painting?"

"No, I mean the inspiration for that picture; the four demons, harbingers of the last judgment: Conquest, War, Famine and Death."

"I don't think I like where this is going. Are you saying one of them …?"

Wufei nodded. "The second horseman, from what we know, sired a child with Leanan."

Milliardo turned a few shades paler, earning himself a concerned look from the younger man.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm sorry, but you wanted to know the truth." Wufei said softly. He couldn't help but wonder how Milliardo would feel…react when he learned about the oracle's prophecy that had foretold his birth as the event to bring on the next war between demons and human kind, the conflict that could quite possible lead to the end of one… if not both of their civilizations. _Maybe_, he thought, _it is better to not reveal that part of the story to him quite yet. _

"So," the blonde finally spoke after a long moment of thoughtful silence. "I assume I got my artistic talents from my mother's side, and thank goodness…" he added, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "my looks as well. But what happened last night… No, what I did last night, was some kind of power inherited from my father. What other powers do I have? Is it possible that I'm able to make time stop temporarily?"

"I don't know." Wufei shook his head. "**We** don't know." It wasn't a lie. Considering that there wasn't and there had never been something…**someone**, he corrected himself mentally, like Milliardo, it was hard to predict what kind of powers he possessed. And truth be told, what he had seen so far surpassed anything they had fathomed. "After you were born it was decided to seal your powers until the day when you would be able to control them. But the seal is weakening and breaking as we speak. That's why you have started to feel those powers and use them even if you didn't realize it."

"So, you are saying this is only the beginning?" Milliardo concluded. " I might discover other things as time goes on?"

"Most likely."

"Tell me more about you," the older man suddenly demanded. "About the guardians. What are they? What do you do, aside from bringing up abandoned demon babies, that is?"

"Some might say we simply are demon slayers, but that's not true. You see, it is possible for demons and humans to coexists, but only if the scale of power doesn't swing too heavy in one or the other direction. The guardians have been keeping that scale in balance since the beginning of time. We fight demons that pose a threat, and protect those who need protection."

"There are others like you… like my parents…?"

"Yes, there are several groups around the world. The guardians of the Long clan, my family, are one of the oldest and largest factions."

"Earlier you said you have been wanting to tell me about all this for a few days…"

"Actually, if it had been up to me or your…parents, you would have found out a long time ago. But the elders wouldn't allow it. "

"What changed their mind? The weakening of that seal you were talking about?"

Wufei nodded. "That and HIM suddenly showing up."

"Him?" Milliardo frowned slightly. "You mean Treize?"

Another nod.

"What's up with the two of you anyway? The way you went after him the moment you saw him… I have never seen you like that."

"He is a demon!" the younger man growled, his voice trembling with fury.

Until now they had kept their voices low, making sure their conversation was not overheard by other patrons in the coffee shop. Wufei's angry outburst, however, turned quite a few heads and earned him a number of surprised looks. He quickly averted his gaze, staring down into his half empty coffee cup.

"He is a demon," he repeated, quieter, more controlled this time.

"So, am I," Milliardo reminded him calmly. "according to what you just have told me."

"That's…it's different. You are not like him and his kind."

"Ah." The blond raised his own cup to his lips, grimacing at the taste of the almost cold drink. "You are saying not all demons are alike."

"Of course not. Not all human's are alike, are they?"

"Point taken. So I take it then Treize is some kind of major badass; a crime lord… the godfather of the demon world maybe?"

Wufei couldn't help but smirk. He shook his head slightly. "You have a way of putting thing, you know that? I already told you. He is an incubus."

"I got that much."

"Incubi are no different from other vampires."

"They don't drink blood." Milliardo pointed out. "At least not from what I understand. Therefore they don't kill people."

"No, they feed on emotions, anger, fear, lust. But that doesn't make them any less dangerous. have you ever wondered why vampires have such a large cult of followers?"

"Uh…Because Hollywood made it seem cool?" the blonde guessed.

"That too, I suppose. But real vampires are nothing like you see in the movies or read books about. Their saliva is a narcotic, more so than any drug known by mankind. And it is highly addictive. Incubi are no different. They have their own methods…"

_His touches,_ Milliardo thought. _So, that's what it was. _The sheer memory of those gentle fingers against his skin ignited a warm feeling inside his belly, making him shiver.

"…and once they have made a connection they can feed even from a distance," Wufei continued. "Incubi can bond with their prey through…"

"Dreams." the blonde finished the sentence, remembering the first night after he had met Treize.

"It doesn't take much to make their prey dependant. The more they give the more you want. Can you imagine something like that having control over you and your powers? I can't allow that."

Milliardo said nothing. He didn't speak for a long time, but when he looked up his eyes were filled with resolution.

"I don't know if I need a guardian to protect me, Wufei. But I sure as hell don't need a mother to tell me what I can and what I cannot do, who picks my friends for me and decides what I'm allowed to know and what should be kept from me."

Wufei opened his mouth in protest, but the older man stopped him before the first word left his lips.

"What I do need," Milliardo continued. "… is a friend. A friend who can teach me things I might not know, and who will stop me when I'm about to do something I shouldn't."

"Like bringing home demons or strangers at all hours of the night?" A ghost of a smirk crossed Wufei's lips.

Milliardo gave a little grin of his own, but it barely reached his eyes. " Actually I was thinking more along the lines of me blowing up the city, or setting fire to a car that cut me off in cross-town traffic; little No-No's like that, you know."

"I think I can do that."

"No more secrets, though."

"No more secrets." Wufei nodded. _He is right. He has a right to make his own decisions. And if the elders don't like it…to hell with them. _

"Well then, should we go home?" Milliardo suggested. "The coffee here is terrible."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note: Finally a new chapter. More to come soon.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 16**

"Hey! Get up."

Sebastian grunted as he rolled over, trying to pull the blanket over his head.

"Up!"

With a sudden tug the blanket was pulled from his naked body. The incubus growled and jerked up, ready to fight, but relaxed when he recognized Nichols standing over him.

"Get in the shower, now!" the dark-haired man ordered.

"Why?"

"This isn't a hotel. The prince gave orders for you to start working at the Serene Rose as soon as you are back on your feet."

Nichols walked over to the window, pulling aside the heavy curtains to let in the morning sun.

Sebastian raised one arm, shielding his eyes. Unlike other vampires, incubi weren't vulnerable to light and sunshine, but the sudden brightness still hurt, especially when one was fighting the effects of a hangover.

"I'll be working… at the spa?"

"I know, the concept of 'earning ones bread' might be foreign for a member of the von Ranzow family…"

The younger man growled.

"I really don't know what your problem is, Nichols? I told you already, I am not like the rest of my family. And I am certainly not afraid of work."

"Good," Nichols replied coolly. "Then you can start by cleaning up this mess. The fridge is almost empty, too. There is a grocery store down the block where you can buy everything we need."

"Um…" Sebastian hesitated, almost embarrassed to admit it. "I don't have any money."

Without a word the other incubus pulled a credit card from his pocket, placing it along with a very authentic looking ID card onto the small coffee table.

"There."

"Thanks." The blonde didn't look at Nichols.

"Don't thank me. The prince told me to give those to you." Nichols replied as he added a state-of -the-art smart phone to the pile. "Keep it turned on in case I or he needs to reach you. I'll send someone by later, to take you to the mall so you can get some decent clothing. But remember, there is a $1000 credit line on that card, so don't get too crazy."

Sebastian nodded. "Got it."

"We had to cut off your shirt. You can borrow one of mine for now, we are about the same size. Oh yeah," Nichols added, already heading for the door. "You can pay me back later for the hooker last night."

The younger man frowned, puzzled. "You pay for them?"

####

The young man was dressed in the same jeans as the day before, and the same gray T-shirt, although it looked like it has been washed since. Quatre recognized him instantly as he entered the bookstore. This time the stranger didn't bother browsing but walked straight toward the back of the store, where Quatre was sorting newly arrived books and magazines.

"Excuse me?! Is Howard in?"

"Sorry, he hasn't come back from lunch yet. But I don't think he will be much long... Ah, actually there he is now." The blond gestured through the front window toward a beat-up pick-up truck that was just pulling up.

A few moments later the store's owner walked through the door, his gray hair and beard in sharp contrast with the bright Hawaiian shirt he was wearing.

"Thanks." With a nod back at Quatre the dark-haired young man crossed the room.

"You are Howard?"

"Depends on who wants to know, kid." Howard looked the stranger up and down.

"I'm Heero, Heero Yuy," he spoke. "Odin told me to see you if I was in town and needed help."

"Odin," the older man asked. "Odin Lowe? Now there is a name I haven't heard in a while. How is Odin?"

"Dead." His visitor announced evenly.

Howard blinked, then cleared his throat.

"Maybe we should talk in my office. Quatre?!" He turned toward the young man. "Can you mind the shop on your own for a little longer?"

"Sure, no problem."

Quatre's eyes followed the two men as they disappeared into the backroom. _Who the hell is that guy?_

_###_#

"Who are you?" Howard gestured at the chair across from his, indicating for his visitor to take a seat. "How do you know Odin Lowe?"

"I'm his…protégé, if you wish. He took me in about 10 years ago. He never spoke of me?"

"I have not seen him for a long time… a very long time. You weren't joking, were you; about Odin being dead, I mean?"

"Why would I be?" Heero sounded almost puzzled. "It's been all over the news for days now. The shooting in the Rocky Mountains, the missing/ murdered park ranger…"

The young man looked around the dimly lit room. There was no window to let in sunlight… or intruders, but a second door that appeared to lead to the outside. The furniture, a few chairs, a large desk, miss-matched shelves lining the walls, was old and well used; still made from real wood, not that pressed stuff they were using these days.

"Sorry," Howard shrugged. "I don't watch much TV, especially not the news. Too depressing for my taste. What happened?"

"They don't know yet for sure." Heero replied, as he started to recall that Friday afternoon when he returned from school…

::: Begin Flashback :::

_The road was blocked by a Park Services car and a vehicle from the sheriff's department about half way up the mountain. Heero frowned as he stopped the bike and removed his helmet._

_"What's going on?"_

_"Sorry, this area is restricted to the public. Nobody is allowed any further," one of the men from the sheriff's department told him._

_Luckily the other deputy, a short guy with gray hairs and a rounded belly (Heero had forgotten his name), recognized the young man and waved him through._

_"That's Lowe's nephew," his explained to his partner. "Drive on. Sheriff Spotted Deer is up at the cabin."_

_"What's going on?" Heero repeated, suspiciously._

_"Joe will tell you," was the only answer he received._

_With a feeling of dread spreading in the pit of his stomach the young man started the motorcycle and drove up the narrow mountain road. There were more cars outside the cabin; Odin's jeep as well as several vehicles imprinted with the logo of the local sheriff's department. Heero also noticed a number of orange tarps had been spread over what looked like dark lumps on the forest floor. What had happened here?_

_Using his senses as he slipped off his bike, Heero could smell blood and sweat mingling with the scents of a dozen or so humans._

_At that moment the door to the cabin opened and Sheriff Joseph (Joe) Spotted Deer stepped outside. He noticed Heero and for just one moment their eyes met before the older man dropped his gaze. _

_"Heero," he spoke quietly. "Did you just get here?"_

_"Yes. What happened?"_

_Joe licked his lips as he gazed briefly at one of tarp-covered lumps on the ground, then back at Heero. He had removed his hat, turning it in his fingers like he always did when he didn't know what to do with his hands. "Did you notice anything wrong this morning when you left for school… any strangers…vehicles that didn't belong here?"_

_Heero shook his head. "No, not that I remember. Everything seemed as usual. But will somebody please tell me what is going on…?" He walked over to the concealed mass, lifted the tarp and gasped as he recognized the lifeless, bloody body of Shei, the proud and sharp alpha female of the wolf pack. _

_Heero felt like someone had driven a fist straight into his stomach. He dropped to his knees next to the dead animal, one of his hands gently stroking the blood matted silver gray fur. Shei's amber eyes, dead and lifeless, stared unseeing into the distance._

_"Who did this?" the young man demanded, the feeling of dread replaced by rage. "Who?" _

_He closed his eyes. A low growl formed in the depth of his throat and he could feel his muscles tremble in anger. He wanted nothing more than to turn into his wolf form, hunt down whoever had done this and rip out his throat. But before he could actually act on the urge he felt a hand, strong but reassuring on his shoulder. _

_"Don't!"_

_Heero opened his eyes again. The sheriff was standing directly behind him._

_"There are three more," he said quietly. "And a couple wounded."_

_"The others?" Heero wanted to know as he covered the dead wolf again and rose slowly to his feet. _

_"At the reservation," Joe told him. "They will be safe there. My people are looking after them."_

_"Thanks." Heero knew the sheriff wasn't talking about his deputies. Suddenly a thought struck him. "Where is Odin?" There was no way in hell Odin would have stood by and let those wolves be killed. _

_"Disappeared."_

_"Disappeared?" the young man echoed._

_"Come. I want to show you something."_

_Spotted Deer, his hat back on his head now, led the way into the cabin where two, no three, men in dark suits were crawling around picking up evidence and placing it in little plastic bags.._

_"The forensic team," Joe explained. "I had them flown in by helicopter."_

_Heero looked around. The cabin was a mess. It looked like there had been a struggle. There was blood on the floor and on some of the furniture; he didn't even need to use his senses to smell it._

_"I was on my way to the ranger station this morning when I heard shots," the sheriff spoke slowly, quietly. "Odin wouldn't answer his phone. And when I got here, this is what I found." He gestured to the forensic guys. "Do you mind leaving us for a few minutes.?"_

_Heero hadn't said a word since he had entered the cabin, and he didn't speak yet either. He just waited for the other men to leave then looked at Joe questioningly. _

_"I'd like you to take a look around. Maybe you can find something they…" Spotted Deer thrust his thumb at the door behind him through which the forensic guys had left, "…couldn't. Don't touch anything, though. I can give you five minutes."_

_The young man nodded. "I'll do my best."_

_The sheriff left the cabin too, giving Heero just enough time to turn into his wolf form and examine the cabin with senses far superior to those of any human. His eyes could see hairs and fibers that would otherwise have been missed; his nose found blood smears almost too faint to see. As he moved around on soft paws a scene started to form in his mind of what had played out here in the room._

_"There were at least two men, other than Odin, I mean." the young man explained later after Joe and the other men had returned "They were waiting for him, surprising him the moment he entered. Check there in the corner; one of them was standing by the window, concealed by the curtain but with a good view of the road. They fought, probably with knifes. Odin injured both of them. One was thrown against the wall here." he pointed at a small smear of blood near the door to the pantry. "The other might have been stabbed, too." __**or more likely bitten**__, Heero thought. "His blood mingled with Odin's on the floor, but these two splatter's are definitely his." _

_The sheriff gestured for one of the forensic guys to take samples from the dried blood droplets Heero had pointed out. "Check those and the sample from the wall over there against the database. Maybe we'll get lucky."_

_He then put his hand on Heero's shoulder, leading the young man outside, where he took a few deep breaths and leaned against one of the porch pillars, exhausted._

_"There was so much blood, Joe. Do you think he could have survived that?"_

_"I don't know." the sheriff replied. "You realize you can't stay here, right? You got a place to go to? I can always put you up at my house for a while."_

_Heero shook his head. "I think I'll head back to California for a while. You can reach me at Wolf Mountain if need be, or on my cell phone."_

_Spotted Deer nodded. "I'll keep you in the loop," he promised. _

_"I probably will stop by the reservation first, check on the pack."_

_Another nod. "Our doors are always open."_

_And then as Heero was already climbing onto his bike the sheriff called after him._

_"Wana Chicala, I don't think we should give up on him just yet." _

::: End Flashback :::

"Sounds bad," Howard admitted. "But that sheriff of yours might be right. Odin is known to surprise people."

"It's been more than a week now. Nobody has seen him since. He had lost a large amount of blood. He hasn't checked into a hospital or seen a doctor, as far as we know."

"But if they killed him why would they have taken his body?"

Heero shrugged. "He might not have been dead. He might have had enough strength to follow his attackers. But the Rocky Mountains are vast; the forest large and deep," he pointed out. "If he collapsed and died somewhere out there he might never be found."

"Hmm," Howard gave a pensive sound. "But tell me, kid,… Why are you here? What is it I can, or you think I can, do for you?"

"I was hoping you can tell me what this is?" the young man shifted in his chair as he pulled a small silvery object from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to his host.

It looked like a pin. Howard turned it over in his hand. It WAS a pin, a lapel pin, about the size of a quarter, German silver and engraved with some kind of insignia and a few words in Latin or some other ancient language. The protruding spike on the back was slightly bent and covered with a piece of cork for protection. Originally it would have probably been held in place by a clutch or clasp of the same material as the pin itself.

"What is it?"

"After leaving the Rockies I went to Wolf Mountain at Yosemite where I used to live," Heero explained. "On my second night there, I was woken by the wolves. I went to check and found an intruder; one of the men that had been at Odin's cabin, I'm certain. He was trying to set fire to the laboratory but I managed to stop him. I underestimated him, though. He got away, but not without me wounding him and taking that…" Heero gestured at the pin. "…off him. I tracked him all the way to this town but lost him eventually. I'm hoping you might be able to tell me where to find him. You see I did a bit of research myself, but I didn't find much. The words on the pin, they talk of the Schwarze Jäger."

"I'm not surprised," Howard replied as he handed the pin back to his guest. "The Jägers are a very old and very secret society."

"You have heard of them then?"

###

A black town-car was parked outside the apartment complex when Sebastian exited the building. Through the half-open front windows he could see the driver with his nose buried in a newspaper. From the grin on his face Sebastian guessed the man wasn't reading the stock market reports; unless of course some company he owned shares in just went way through the roof.

The incubus was wearing a dark blue shirt from Nichols wardrobe, and a pair of jeans he had found still wrapped up all the way on the bottom of the closet. They were cut tight and low, showing off his physique especially his firm little butt. He couldn't see Nichols ever wear anything like it.

As he crossed the street, the driver put down the newspaper and opened the car door. Sebastian recognized him instantly, or so he thought…

"Hey there. You're the one who's supposed to take me shopping, I guess," he greeted him. "Leigh it was, wasn't it?"

The other incubus looked at him for one long second.

"You must have met my brother. I'm Luther…the third."

"Luther, huh?" _Liam…Leslie…Leigh…and now Luther. How many of them are there, anyway? And who the hell named them?_ "Well, nice to meet you, I guess. Sorry about mistaking you for your brother. I guess it's impossible to tell the two of you apart." Sebastian dropped into the passenger seat and closed the door.

"What are you talking about? I'm better looking than Leigh."

Sebastian snorted in amusement. "Where are we going?"

"Put on your seatbelt."

The blonde gave the other incubus an exasperated look. "Those things are completely pointless, you know that, right?" He was right, of course. It was very difficult to kill a demon in a car accident. But Luther's face never changed.

"The police won't think so when they pull us over. I can't afford another ticket."

_Oh please, someone tell me this is some kind of bad joke? _Sebastian huffed but put on his seatbelt. "So, where are we going?" he repeated.

###

Throwing another look in the direction of Howard's office Quatre couldn't help but wonder what was going on behind that closed door. What kind of business was being conducted in there, anyway? Even after all this time, the office was the only room he had never once set foot into.

He had noticed in the past that packages dropped off at the backdoor never made it to the front, or people - and Quatre used this term lightly- coming and going without ever setting foot in the store itself. He was quite certain that the young man currently with his boss was not completely human. He had asked about a book regarding werewolf hunters. Did that mean…?

_Well, I suppose it's not that farfetched_, Quatre thought. _If there are vampires why not werewolves? But what would Howard have to do with a werewolf…or a incubus for that matter,_ he wondered thinking back at Treize Khushrenada's visit days earlier. _Did Howard provide some kind of 'service' for demons and other creatures?_ He tried to image the old man as some sort of otherworldly drug dealer and couldn't help but grin. _No, I don't think so. But still, the question remains. _

Curiously the young man moved slowly closer toward the office door as he continued sorting books and magazines into their shelves. He hesitated, looking around for anyone who might be watching him. But there was only Oscar, curled up in a spot of sunlight on the counter, absorbed in vigorous self-grooming. The cat raised his head as thought he noticed that he was being watched, looked at Quatre for a moment before continuing to lick his paws.

The young man stepped closer toward the door, cocking his head, straining to make out what was said inside the office. He could make out voices but it was difficult to understand what they were actually saying.

###

"They are Werewolf hunters, have been since the middle ages, or even beyond that?"

"These aren't the middle ages anymore." Heero growled. He was well aware of the perception and not entirely undeserved bad reputation of his kind, especially in the past. "But why would they be going around shooting wolves and attacking park rangers? We have done nothing to provoke them, but I will be damned if I will let them get away with it. I need to find out what happened to Odin and why they would go after him."

"You do know he was one of them, right?"

"A werewolf?" the young man nodded. "I'm aware of that."

"No," Howard shook his head. "I mean one of 'THEM', a member of the Scharze Jäger."

"What?"

"Odin was a Jäger once, and a rather skilled one, from what I understand," the older man explained.

"No…No, you got that wrong, I'm sure." Heero shook his head in denial.

"Was he still wearing that thick leather belt with the big silver buckle? I'm sure he never told you it was made from the pelt of the first werewolf he took down. And have you noticed the nodges carved into its side, each of them symbolizing another kill."

Heero swallowed. He could feel the blood drain from his face and his stomach twisted into a ball. Trying to force down a rising feeling of nausea he took slow and deep breaths as he looked at Howard. There was no malice in the old man's expression. He wasn't trying to be cruel; he was only telling him what he thought Heero needed to know.

"But…How?...I mean what happened?"

"Maybe," his host told him calmly. "…you should ask J about that."

"You know J?" The young man sounded surprised.

"We have… um met a few times in the past," Howard confirmed.

Heero was about to say something but suddenly he paused. His head snapped around toward the door, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air.

"Don't!" the older man barked at him before he could jump from the chair. "You don't need to worry about him, he is alright."

With an unconvinced grunt Heero relaxed back into his seat. "You trust him?" he asked with another gaze back at the door.

"He wouldn't be working here if I didn't," Howard replied calmly.

" Alright." The younger man gave another grunt. "So… will you help me?"

"You want to know how to find the man that pin belongs to, I assume? I am not sure if I would be doing you any favors giving you that information, should I be able to get it. But something tells me that, if I don't you would try finding him on your own, anyway."

Heero didn't answer, and that on its own was answer enough.

"Very well. Give me a day or two, I will make some inquiries. If he is in town, I'm sure I can find him."

"Thanks." The young man rose from his chair. "Maybe I should go see J while I'm waiting. Should I tell him that I spoke to you?"

"Do as you wish, kid." Howard just shrugged. "By the way, you can use the backdoor, if you want."

###

The address he was looking for was located in a gated community; not one of those little neighborhoods with a roll gate anyone could pass through with the proper code, but rather one of the old fashioned exclusive country club style communities most people only knew from movies, complete with gatehouse and an armed security guard.

Lieutenant Otto Fisher plucked his badge from his pocket and held it out of the rolled down window of his car as he pulled up. The guard, a middle-aged man with pepper and salt hair and steel gray eyes, just tipped his hat and buzzed him through. He was probably a retired cop, Otto assumed; they mostly were. Living in Orange County was just too damn expensive to actually retire after retirement, at least on a policeman's pension.

He checked the address one more time as he slowly rolled down the road, past perfectly manicured yards and luxury cars, most no older than last years model. Then he stopped in front of a cream colored 3-story house with chocolate brown trimmings. There was a basketball hoop in the driveway and a Mercedes parked in the street. When he rang the bell Otto almost expected a black-suited butler or a maid in a black dress and apron to answer the door. A dog started to bark and a few moments later a woman opened. She was in her early 40's, with deep auburn hair and intelligent eyes, dressed in jeans and a very feminine looking t-shirt. Somewhere in the house music was playing, way too loud.

"Missus Saunders?"

"Yes?" she asked while holding back the dog, a large Golden Retriever, with one hand.

"I'm Lieutenant Fisher." He showed her his badge and ID. She barely looked at it. "I'm here regarding the missing person's report you have filed."

"Kyle," she said, and he could see her tense. "My husband isn't home. He had to go to the office. Should I call him?"

"No, no that won't be necessary," he told her. "I just have some questions to ask."

A wave of relief seemed to wash over her. Apparently she had been prepared for the worse kind of news.

"Yes, of course. Please, come in." She tried to push aside the dog that was eager to greet the visitor. "Don't mind him. Lucky is just one big teddy bear."

"I know that kind," Otto scratched the animal behind his ears. "My parents have one just like it, 100 pounds of fur and love."

She smiled politely and closed the door behind him. Then she looked up to the second floor from where the loud music was coming with a sigh. "Emily, turn down that damn music! Teenagers." she added directed at the Lieutenant as though that would explain everything. "Shall we go onto the patio?"

Mrs. Saunders led the way through a half-open glass door. She must have been sitting out here when he rang the bell. A number of photo albums littered the glass table next to a tray with a glass and a pitcher of iced tea.

"I was looking for a photo of Kyle," she explained as she gestured for Otto to take a seat. "The Officer we spoke to this morning said you would need one."

"Yes," he confirmed as he settled down, draping one leg over the other. "That will be helpful."

Lucky the dog had ran off into the immaculate garden that looked like a picture out of some landscaping catalogue. Otto could hear him chewing on some kind of toy.

"Can I get you something to drink, Officer…?"

"Lieutenant," he reminded her. "Lieutenant Fisher. No, thanks, I'm fine. Just to be sure, Misses Saunders, you haven't heard from your son since you contacted us, have you?"

"No, we haven't. We have called all of his friends and schoolmates but nobody seems to know what happened to him. He left the party… and then he just disappeared. We shouldn't have let him drive on his own."

He could see tears well up in her eyes.

"We should have made him call us and picked him up. But he is usually such a responsible boy."

"Missus Saunders," he tried to sound firm and comforting at the same time. "You mustn't blame yourself. It won't accomplish anything. It's still early, there is still the possibility that he might have slept over somewhere. Does he have a girlfriend?"

"Not someone he would spend the night with," she replied. "Besides, she and her parents are out of town. I called them just in case, but they haven't heard from him either."

Otto nodded as he pulled out a small notebook and a pencil. "Perhaps you can tell me what car your son was driving last night; the make and model and the license plate."

"A BMW Z4, in deep sea blue, I think that's what the color is called. He got it for finishing his junior year first in his class. He had worked hard for it," she added as though she felt the need to explain why a 17 year old was driving such an expensive sports car.

Otto said nothing, but instead scribbled the info in his notepad.

Suddenly a girl, 14 or 15 years old, stepped through the patio door. Emily, the Lieutenant assumed. She looked like a younger copy of her mother.

"Mom?! Can I go…?" Her eyes fell onto the tall dark-haired man and she stopped mid sentence.

"This is Lieutenant Fisher," her mother explained. "He is here about Kyle. Lieutenant, this is my daughter Emily."

"Nice to meet you." He nodded at her. "Perhaps I may ask you a couple of questions, too?"

"Me, why?"

"Maybe your brother has told you something that might be important," Otto replied. "You might not think so or not even realize it, but it could help us find him."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly and she hesitated just long enough to set off alarm bells in his head. It wasn't unusual for siblings to share things with one another that they'd never tell their parents.

"Ummm…Yeah sure, I'll do anything I can to help find Kyle."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note: The muses have been cooperating lately and I have been writing like crazy. Even though those chapters are almost twice as long as my usual chapters I have been finishing 2 or more per week. In fact I'm close to completing chapter 21 as we speak. Unfortunately my proof reader is nursing a sore shoulder and can't keep up with me at the moment. But look forward to more chapter very soon.  
>With most of the many characters in the story introduced the plot will also become a lot more action loaded in the next chapters.<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 17**

She could hear the phone ring the moment she unlocked the door to her apartment. Swallowing a curse, Sally Po set down the bags of groceries she had picked up on her way home and hurried into the living room. She managed to reach for the phone before the answer machine picked up. The number on the displayed wasn't familiar to her, but from the area code she could tell the call came from Colorado. She wondered who might be calling her from across the country as she lifted the receiver to her ear. Most people, including her parents and her patients, knew her cell phone number. Sometimes she wasn't even sure why she still kept a landline.

"Po."

"Sally, is that you?" a male voice asked at the other end of the line.

The young woman frowned. "Yes, who is this?"

There was a sigh of relief. "Oh good. I wasn't sure if this number was still working. This is Kevin, from veterinary school. Do you remember me?"

"Kevin West?!" she smiled. "How could I not remember you, you big goofball?! It's been a while hasn't it?"

"It sure has," he confirmed.

Sally settled down on one side of the couch, pulled up her legs and made herself comfortable. Kevin and she had shared a apartment back when they both worked on their DVM degree. After graduating they had lost touch as she moved to California and he, as far as she knew, took a job as a veterinarian with the national park service. He was an outdoors kind of guy.

"You know what's strange, Kev? I was thinking of ringing you up myself just this morning. I was watching the news about that attack in the Rocky Mountains and thought of you. Did you know the ranger that is missing?"

"No, never met him. There are a few of them, you know. But you are right, **that **is strange," he agreed, "because that's the reason I am calling you."

"Oh?" she asked.

"Yes. I need an opinion and you were the only person who came to mind."

"I'm flattered," she laughed. "How can I help you?"

"I assume you heard that they killed several wolves?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah. The woman on the news said they suspect some farmers who were angry about their livestock being attacked by wolves."

"I might have agreed with that, but… They sent the cadavers to me for necropsies. You know how it works. I took blood and tissue samples, but when I checked them I came across something odd."

"How so?"

"They have the same DNA."

"Twins?" Sally suggested. She could almost hear him shake his head.

"I don't think so. It would have to be quadruplets; quadruplets born years apart. But since that's impossible I started to think clones."

"Clones? You can't be serious. No clone has ever survived very long."

"Not that we know of," he shot back, and suddenly Sally felt like she was back in school when the two of them had talked, argued and bounced ideas off one another until late into the night. "You know those wolves were all bread in some research institute in Yosemite."

"No, I didn't know that," she admitted. "Still, clones seem a little farfetched, don't you think?"

"Maybe, but that's not the strangest part."

"It's not?" Sally Po asked intrigued.

"I found traces of human genes in their DNA."

The young woman burst into laughter. "Very funny, Kev. You know, you really had me there for a moment. But April fools has long come and gone."

"I'm not joking, Sally, I swear."

"Either that or you have been smoking funny cigarettes."

"Sally, please." There was something in his voice that rendered her serious in an instant. "I will send you some samples and you can do the tests yourself. I just need someone to tell me that I haven't gone mad."

"Alright," she agreed. "Ship them overnight to my practice." She gave him the address and could hear him scribble it down.

"Got it. Thanks Sally."

"No problem at all. But if I find out that you just cut your finger or something and mixed your own blood with those samples I will never let you live it down."

"I know." Kevin replied, a hint of humor in his voice. Then he turned serious again. "There is one more thing. The bullets I removed from the cadavers… they were all made of silver."

###

"Lieutenant?!" the desk sergeant waved a piece of paper at him as Otto crossed the lobby of the police station on his way to his office.

"What is it, Sergeant?"

"The chief called while you were gone. He wants you to get in touch with him ASAP. And this just came in. I think it's about the APB you sent out for that blue sports car."

"Seriously?" The Lieutenant snatched the paper from the officer's hand, his eyes flying over it quickly. "That was fast."

The car had been found in one of the parking garages at Fashion Island, an outdoor mall, or better shopping district in Newport.

"Call Fashion Island security, check if they had their security cameras running last night. If so we need a copy of the tapes."

"I don't think they are using tapes anymore, Sir." the sergeant, a middle aged man with a slight belly and a receding hairline told him. "It's all digital now. I can have them send us the file, though."

"Whatever," Otto replied. He was tired, he was hungry and he was in no mood for a lecture on modern technology. "Just get them. If we get lucky we can see who drove the car to the garage. Oh yeah, Meyers…" Just about to leave, the lieutenant turned his head. "Call Child Protection Services and have one of their child advocates get in touch with me."

"Got it, Lieutenant."

Otto walked into his office, closing the door behind him. He put the sergeant's note, a can of coke and a paper bag from the sandwich shop down the street on his desk and slipped off his jacket and shoulder holster. His eyes went to his sandwich bag then to the phone and he sighed as he settled into his chair. So much for a nice lunch break. It was 4 pm already and he hadn't a bite to eat since this morning. Like many tall and slender people he burned energy fast and was always hungry.

After a moment of consideration he ripped open the paper bag, took a bite from the juicy roast beef sub then picked up the phone to dial the police chief's number. His secretary put him through as soon as he muttered his name.

"Lieutenant Fisher, Sir. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, Fisher. I was told you were out interviewing people on the Kyle Saunders case. "

"That's right, Sir." he confirmed, eyeing his sandwich, wondering if he could risk taking another bite.

"How did that go?"

"Well, we are still trying to put together when and where he was last seen."

"You see, the Saunders are…umm friends of my family and I would take it as a personal favor if you could put as much priority onto the case as you can."

"Of course Sir. Missing minor cases always have priority," he replied stiffly.

" Um.. yes, that's right. Thank you. Is there anything positive I can tell the parents should they call me?"

"Well, yes, Sir. We just located Kyle's car at a local shopping center. I have requested the security camera feedback of last night. Depending on what we will find on those tapes we will have the car transported to our yard and checked by forensics. Then we will take it from there."

"Good work, Lieutenant. By the way, I've read your report this morning, regarding the sudden rise in missing people reports in the city. That is indeed a very alarming trend."

" I couldn't agree more, Sir." _That's exactly why I sent you that report…two weeks ago._

"I think it is time we formed a task force to deal with the problem before it becomes any larger. I will put you in charge of it. A meeting regarding that issue tomorrow morning, 8 am sharp."

"Yes, Sir." _Well, I will be damned, suddenly there is money and resources for a task force. And all it took was for some rich kid to disappear. Stop it, Otto! _he warned himself._ There is no use in getting cynical. _

They talked for a few more minutes then hung up. Otto looked down at his sandwich with a happy expression.

_Now it's just you and me baby!_

He had just taken a big bite of fresh and crusty bread filled with juicy deliciousness when the phone rang again. The Lieutenant glared at the apparatus as though to quiet it with the power of his mind. Then he sighed, put down the sandwich, wiped his hands and picked up.

"Lieutenant Fisher." he said around a mouth full of roast beef.

"This is Angela Novara from Child Protection Services, I was told to call you."

Usually when he thought of CPS, stern looking women in dark skirt suits with pulled back hair and horn-rimmed glasses, as one would see in old German movies, popped into his mind. But the voice on the other end of the phone just didn't fit that image, so Otto quickly tried to rid himself of it.

"Ah…um… yes," he mumbled. "I need some advice."

"Are you speaking with your mouth full?"

"Ah," he swallowed and quickly washed the rest of the food down with a gulp of coke. "Sorry about that, Missis Novara. I was in the middle of lunch. It's been a busy day."

"It's Miss. Miss Novara," she replied. "Should I call back later?"

"No, no that won't be necessary. I have a bit of a problem, you see. I would like to talk to someone, but she is still a minor. So, technically I can't question her without her parents present, but I have the feeling that she might talk more freely without them being around." he told her about the Kyle Saunders case, Kyle's sister Emily and her reaction when they first had met.

Angela Novara listened without interrupting, then asked him for the name and address and promised she would see what she could do and get back to him.

Otto raised one eyebrow as he set the receiver gently back onto its cradle. _That was easy._

###

"Not too bad." Nichols stated matter-of-factly after looking Sebastian over.

"Not too bad?" The other incubus turned with a smile and a move that would make any model proud. "I think I look pretty hot."

"Yeah, and it only took you 3 hours to buy a shirt and a pair of pants," Nichols didn't sound too impressed.

"Hah! That's where you are wrong, I bought 3 shirts not to mention socks and undershorts, although I'm not sure I'll need those. The jeans are yours by the way; not like you are ever going to wear them."

"Says who?"

"Says I," Sebastian shot back. "Because you would have to take that stick out of your ass to put them on. But if you want I can take them off."

Nichols glowered at the younger incubus.

"No thanks. That will be fine," he replied stiffly. He had bought those jeans a couple of months ago after Treize told him that he needed to lighten up a bit, and truth be told he hadn't been able to bring himself to actually wear them. But hell would freeze over before he would admit that to Sebastian. "In the future, don't touch my personal things unless I tell you to."

"Got it," Sebastian answered. "By the way did you see the 'new Luther' yet? He did a bit of shopping himself while we are at it."

"Whatever. I don't have time for fashion shows right now." Nichols told Sebastian off as he waved for the worker behind the desk in the lobby.

"Have you spoken to the prince this morning?"

The young man shook his head. "Not since yesterday. He called in and left a message that he wouldn't need the limo all day. He was taking the BMW and driving himself."

"Did he mention where he was going?"

"No, Sir. "

"Alright. Find Leigh and tell him I want to see him."

Nichols frowned. It was unusual for Treize to not show up at the spa, especially if he had meetings scheduled. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his bosses' number as he had done several times before. Nobody answered.

"Something wrong?" Sebastian von Ranzow asked.

"I'm not sure. Well, in any case, let me show you the place."

"What is it you are doing here, anyway?" the blonde asked as he looked around curiously.

"Everything," Nichols answered. "I keep his schedule, remind him of any engagements he might have, take phone calls, set up meetings… in other words I make sure he has whatever he needs before he ever realizes that he needs it."

Sebastian gave him a strange and somewhat skeptical look. "How does one do that?"

"Don't worry, it's not that difficult. The prince is a man of habits. He will spent most afternoons in the studio apartment upstairs or in his office. Just remember to remind him of his appointments ahead of time and see to it that his car is ready when he needs it. Leigh or Luther will drive him most of the time and if he doesn't need them he will let you know. In general he is rather easy-going, but for your own sake make sure that he feeds every once in a while. If he gets hungry he might quite possibly rip off your head for even the smallest mistake."

Sebastian gave an amused huff, but the smirk all but fell from his face when he realized the other incubus was being serious and literally.

###

Hunched over his laptop, Milliardo was reading yet another blog about fantasy and mystical creatures. He had spent the past two hours surfing the web looking for whatever information he could find. Most of the stuff was junk as far as he was concerned, but he had found a few interesting facts regarding Sidhe in general and specifically Leanan, his alleged mother.

She was, according to most accounts, just as Wufei had told him a Celtic Muse. Her name translated into something like 'My Inspiration Fairy'. What Wufei seemed to have failed to mention, though, was the fact that most of her lover's, those brilliant artists and poets whose genius she had inspired, died very young. Like candles lit from both sites, burning brightest just before they snuffed out. Of course, the revelation: 'Your mother is a muse, but at the same time probably a serial killer.' might have put a bit of a dampener on the conversation. But on the other hand, Wufei had promised him 'no more secrets' had he not?

Finding out more about his …sire, was all together a whole different story. Most of the information came from religious sources. All this talk about the Lamb of God and Book of Seven Seals and apocalypse, Milliardo wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. All his life he had never been much into any kind of religion. The whole idea just seemed odd to him.

_But… if there are demons_, he wondered, _shouldn't there also be angels?_ _And what about gods… or Satan… _He shook his head, unwilling to deal with those issues right now. Things were confusing enough already.

His fingers reached for the keyboard, typing yet another word in the browser's search box. _**Incubus**_

Hundreds of links popped up; not that he had expected anything else. Everybody seemed to be interested in demons and fantasy these days, and everybody wanted to share what they knew, or thought they knew. It was mostly the same stuff over and over, but he did come across something he found interesting. One of the websites mentioned a sword given to Lilith by Samuel that had supposedly been past on through her bloodline to those 'worthy' of carrying it.

It had to be the sword Treize was using, Milliardo was certain. He didn't even know where it had come from, when Treize suddenly had it in his hand. _Does that sword make him something like the king of the incubi? In a way like Arthur and Excalibur belonged together?_ _But if it was really that powerful, why wasn't he able to kill Wufei with it? Or did he even try? _he wondered. _And what about Wufei's weapon, it wasn't your average blade either. I've never before seen it glow. _

Wufei had mentioned that the guardians were supposed to keep balance between demons and humans. Could it be his sword was forged as the counterpart to Treize's demon sword? Interesting thought. And then there was something else Milliardo had noticed during his research. He wasn't sure if it meant anything, but… of the four horsemen of the apocalypse one was also carrying a sword. It was War.

Milliardo rubbed his eyes as he closed the laptop with a sigh.

_Enough of that, _he decided.

The bottle of beer he had opened earlier was empty. He walked into the kitchen to grab another one from the fridge, opened it and took one long gulp. On his way back to the living room his eyes caught a photograph on the working table in his studio. He held his step, then turned and walked toward the table. Slowly, he reached out and picked up the picture. It showed him, maybe 6 or 7 years old at SeaWorld, together with his…

_My parents,_ he decided. _They are the only parents I have ever known and that are what they will always be. Bringing a child into the world doesn't make you a parent. Taking care of that child does. _

He tried to remember things they did together, like playing football at the park. His mother was a terrible receiver, but that didn't stop her from trying. _Mother was a strong woman, but she also was very gently. She sang to me when I was upset and held me when I was sick…wait, that's not true. I never really was sick. _

Thinking back at it now, he couldn't remember ever getting sick as a child. When half of his class was home with a cold or flu, he never got so much as the sniffles. He got hurt a few times, never seriously though. Falling from the neighbor's apple tree only earned him a scraped knee…and a spanking from his father afterward.

_I'm surprised nobody ever noticed, _Milliardo thought._ Or maybe, that's the reason why we kept moving every so often and why they started sending me to different boarding schools when I got older._

Giving the photograph one last, sad smile he put it back in its place on the desk. _I wish you had told me. _

"Working again?"

The blonde nearly jumped. He hadn't even heard Wufei come home.

"No, just thinking. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this whole… 'your parents were demons' issue. It's just so... "

"Difficult to believe?" Wufei finished the sentence. He put down his gym bag and slipped off his shoes before joining Milliardo in the studio.

The older man laughed but it sounded more cynical than amused. "Yeah. Kind of like someone telling you little green Martians with antennas on their heads have landed in your front yard."

"I believe it has been established that Martians don't exist, since life on Mars isn't sustainable." Wufei replied dryly.

"Yeah? Until yesterday I was quite sure it had been established that demons don't exist either." Milliardo replied, but this time there was a hint of humor in his eyes. He looked down at his friend. "You got any plans for dinner yet?"

"Hmm, no not really. Why?"

"I feel like cooking tonight. I suddenly have a craving for something I haven't had in a long time, something my dad used to make."

"Your dad could cook?" Wufei seemed impressed.

"No. Dad was terrible in the kitchen. But he knew how to make a few things, and made them well."

####

"Quatre?!"

The blonde looked up from the book he was thumbing through. He had finished sorting and cataloguing the new arrivals and was now picking out a few titles for his own, quickly growing library of the occult at home.

"It's getting late. Time to lock up."

"Okay." Quatre closed the book and put it onto the pile he had already set aside for purchase.

"By the way," Howard's voice carried a hint of sarcasm. "The next time you feel like listening in on a conversation between me and one of my visitors, why don't you just step into the room. It's a lot easier than trying to eavesdrop at the door."

Flashing bright red, the young man swallowed. There was no use denying it.

"I…I'm sorry," he mumbled, more than just a little embarrassed. "I just… I was curious who those people are that always come to see you. You know, after all this time I thought you would trust me a little."

"If I didn't trust you, kid, I wouldn't be keeping you around. By the way, there is your ride." Howard thrust his chin toward the large store window. Outside, Trowa was pulling up in the silver sports car. "Go home. I will take care of the rest myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," the old man replied.

"Okay thanks."

Quatre knew Trowa wouldn't come inside to get him; he never did. So he quickly rang up his purchase, a volume on spells and two others about supernatural creatures, threw the books into his backpack and gave Howard a nod on the way out.

"See you tomorrow."

###

"Macaroni and Cheese?!" Wufei looked down into the bowl filled not only with mac and cheese, but Kraft instant Mac and Cheese.

"And Hotdogs."

"You do realize it isn't really considered cooking if you just mix water into something and shove it into the microwave, right?" The young Chinese man dipped his fork into the yellow goo.

"Sue me," Milliardo grinned. "Every once in a while I like it. It reminds me of when Dad and I used to be alone at home. We would do nothing but eat bad food, play video games and watch movies."

"And your mother was okay with that?" _Well, I suppose this is one of those instances when it pays to have an immortal child._

The blonde pulled the hotdogs - he had turned them into little crabs and octopi - from the toaster oven and put them on a plate before joining his friend at the table.

"Good isn't it?"

"I'm afraid to try."

"Come on, it can't be any worse for you than those Rahmen bowls I have seen you eat before." Milliardo dug into the food with enthusiasm.

"Touché." Wufei smiled. It was nice to see that his mood seemed to have lifted.

They ate quietly for a little while, but then Milliardo looked up.

"Tell me about that sword of yours, Wu. I wasn't imagining things when I thought I saw it glow, was I?"

"You weren't" the young man confirmed. "Nataku is what we consider a sacred sword. According to the written history of my clan it was forged by the flames of the dragon god Shenlong himself. Legend has it that one of my ancestors and also one of the first guardians, Xhu, had been trying to slay a demon that was terrorizing local villages. It would show up periodically, devastate the villages, slay the livestock and anyone who dared to oppose it then disappear and not be seen again for some time. One night Shenlong appeared to Xhu in a dream, telling him to mine ore in the high mountains and forge a sword with which he would be able to slay the creature.  
>Zhu obeyed, dug up the ore and brought it down to his smithy only to discover that no fire was hot enough to melt it. Frustrated and about to give up, Xhu prayed to the dragon god for enlightenment. Suddenly Shenlong appeared before him. With his fiery breath he melted the ore and allowed the sword Nataku to be forged. It is able to burn demons with a mystical flame as hot as a dragon's breath."<p>

"That's an interesting story and quite…impressive." Milliardo reached for another octopus wiener. "I can imagine a weapon this powerful would be highly sought after. What if it was to fall into the wrong hands?"

"It can't." the other man replied. "Only members of the Long clan, and even amongst them only a selected few are able to activate the sacred blade. There is only one person in a lifetime that can do so, and sometimes it even skips a generation or two. In the hands of anyone else it is nothing but a regular sword."

"Only one person in a lifetime, huh? Wow, I didn't realize you were that special."

Wufei looked down in his bowl. "I don't consider myself that special," he replied modestly. "But if I was chosen to wield Nataku there has to be for a reason for it. Perhaps it was simply to protect you from 'HIM'."

"Treize?" Milliardo guessed. "Since he also carries a sacred sword."

"It's not 'sacred' when it is held by a demon, but yes. So, you noticed it, too?"

"It was hard not to, considering the two of you were going at one another like berserkers. You said Nataku can burn Demons…"

Wufei nodded. "And kill them, even powerful ones. Not too many things can harm certain creatures."

"But you didn't…kill him, did you?"

"No." the young man looked almost frustrated. "I managed to barely scratch him. It will take a bit for him to recover - _hopefully giving us enough time to prepare for his next move_ - but in the end he will have little more than a scar to show for it."

Wufei couldn't help but notice that those words seemed to relax Milliardo. _He still feels for him. Is it possible that Treize Khushrenada already managed to put him under his control?_

Milliardo's next question, sudden and unexpected, surprised the young man.

"Wufei… my parents… they really died in a car crash, right? I mean that was all there was to it…just a freak accident?"

"As far as I know. A rain slick road, a driver going a bit faster than he should, his car losing control, crossing the center divider and hitting your family's car. I don't think you can call that anything else but an accident."

"So it wasn't like something killed them because of me? You would tell me the truth, wouldn't you?"

"I would." Wufei confirmed seriously.

"And it wasn't me either, was it?"

"What?"

"I mean…Maybe we were driving and I got hungry and wanted a burger? What do I know? I still can't remember that day. They might have told me they wouldn't stop for fast food or something else that made me angry and…"

"Milliardo!" Wufei glared at the other man. "You DID NOT kill your parents. You did not kill anyone. Just because you were born a demon doesn't mean you are a monster."

"Really? Wow! Did you find that written in a fortune cookie or something?"

The younger man said nothing, but his glare only intensified. Milliardo dropped his gaze.

"I'm sorry! It's just so frustrating."

"Don't worry about it."

Silence fell over the room once again, and once again it was Milliardo who broke that silence a few minutes later.

"You know, I have been wondering… Treize approached me at a nightclub, we went out together with dozens of people around us, and nobody ever noticed that he and I are different from them. I assume that means there could be demons and other creatures all around us hiding in plain sight. They obviously don't look like the hideous things depicted in horror stories and fantasy tales.

"Most don't," Wufei confirmed. "Many of the greater beings of the otherworld either have human form or can use glamour or other magic to take on the shape they desire. You have been around some of them." _In fact, I have noticed that you seem to unconsciously be drawn closer to them of late and have been seeking out places they gather at. "_At that nightclub you like to hang out at for example, the one owned by that long-haired fairy."

"You know," Milliardo looked at his friend. "If you would have said something like this 2 days ago, I might have knocked your teeth out. But you are not talking about Duo's sexual orientation, are you? You are being literal. He is a…fairy?" The image of Tinkerbelle and little creatures with wings, semi-transparent skirts and magic wands popped into his mind and he shook his head.

"Fairies make up one of the largest groups in the other world. They come in many types, from minor Fae, Sprites and Elementals all the way to powerful and dangerous beings like the Sidhe, Great Fairy Queens, Muses like your mother or members of the fairy court."

"And where does that put Duo?"

"Duo Maxwell is most definitely a Greater Fairy. They are the only ones capable of taking on human form. Although I'm not sure about his direct bloodline. He was raised amongst humans, which isn't unusual. Greater Fairies are known to switch their offspring with human children, or trade them."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure, but there are some theories. Some claim that Fairies raised on human milk are more powerful."

"Maybe they are just lousy parents." Milliardo replied with a snort. " But what about the human kids? What happens to them?"

Wufei shrugged. "Nobody knows for sure. There have been instances where someone showed up claiming to have been raised by fairies or demons…or wolves throughout history, but those claims have never been proven. As for Fae offspring left in this realm… sooner or later their powers will awaken, not something every human parent can deal with I suppose. More often than not they end up in foster care or orphanages like your friend Maxwell."

"You seem to know a lot about him."

"He has been around for a while. Fairies, like most being from the other world can live for a very long time. And their appearance is ageless." Wufei explained. "He must have attracted the guardian's attention at one point or another to have made it into our archives."

"So, you keep track of demons like the cops try to keep track of criminals?"

Wufei nearly winced. "I wouldn't say that."

"Well, in any case. Duo can't be that bad of a guy considering that you haven't tried stopping me from going to his place…or tried to kill him."

####

"Achoo!" Duo Maxwell rubbed his itching nose with the back of his hand, as he sneezed one again.

Heero, who was putting down chairs to get the club ready for opening, threw a look over his shoulder. "Caught a cold or something? Maybe you should go home."

"We don't catch colds," Duo pointed out. "Someone must be talking about me. Besides, if I was going to go home who would take care of this place? You?"

"Why not? What's there to it anyway? Charley just got in. Between the two of us we should pull it off."

The braided young man rolled his eyes. "Leaving my club in the care of a vampire and a werewolf? God have mercy."

Heero just grinned.

"Anyway, weren't you going to leave for Yosemite tonight?"

"I was, but there is something I need to take care of beforehand, and I need to rent a car somewhere," the young man replied. "Besides, I'm in no hurry; I could leave later if you need me."

"Like a hole in the head." Duo huffed, in mock annoyance.

When Heero had told him that he was going to leave he had been disappointed to say the least. He had come to like the young man he had been sharing his flat with for the past few days, and had hoped he would stay for a little longer.

"I should be back by Wednesday or Thursday or at the latest by the weekend."

"You are coming back?"

"Yeah, of course. I just need to talk to someone, and to pick up a few things including my bike. After that I will return. Unless, you'd rather have me rent a room somewhere else?"

"Na," the young man replied, trying hard to keep a grin off his face. "No need to waste your money. I think I can keep up with you for a while longer. And you are not half bad when it comes to taking out the trash and sweeping the floor… for a werewolf that is."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 18**

###

Milliardo was walking down a dimly lit street when he saw her. The street was no place he recognized, but it had an old-fashioned and rather outdated feeling to it. The houses on both sides were brick-build and dark, the streetlights looked like replicas of gas lights one would see in old movies.

She looked different, dressed in a black period outfit; from the ankle length dress with the stiff high neck, to her pointy-tip, leather laced shoes and her frilly silk parasol.-Why she was carrying a parasol at night was everyone's guess. - Her hair was longer too than he remembered it, longer and wavier. He almost didn't recognize her.

_Noin?_

"Lucrezia, what are you doing here?" he heard himself ask.

She jumped as though he had startled her and raised her umbrella in a defensive fashion as she jerked around Then she seemed to recognize him, gave a sigh of relief and pressed one slender hand over her heart.

Now that he saw her face Milliardo realized that she was slightly older than his friend, her eyes darker.

"Dear lord, you almost frightened me to death." The woman's voice trembled slightly.

"Have you been following me?" he asked. "This is no place for a lady. Let me find you a cab to take you back home."

"But I just wanted…"

_Ring….Ring…._

The phone on his nightstand woke Milliardo before he could find out what she wanted… or who she was for that matter. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he reached for the phone, checking the number quickly before answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Mister Peacecraft?! This is Silvia Noventa."

He had called her office the night before, leaving a message for her to contact him when he didn't reach her.

"Ah, yes, thanks for calling back." Milliardo pushed himself up into a sitting position. Outside the window the sun was shining. It was at least 9 or 10 o clock he assumed. The young man stifled a yawn. He and Wufei had talked until late into the night, or more precisely the early morning, and he felt like he barely had slept for an hour or more. Having strange dreams didn't help either.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

"Ah, yes I was hoping you might be able to help me. And please, call me Milliardo."

"How so…Milliardo?" she asked.

"Well, I assume as his interior designer you have a way of contacting Treize…Mister Khushrenada."

"Um… yes, of course."

"He and I were talking, you see, and he mentioned that he was interested in taking a look at some of my other work." Technically that part wasn't even a lie. "I was supposed to show him some of my sketches later today, but I lost my cell phone last night. His address and his phone number,…both gone."

"Oh, that is no good," she replied. "I can't give out any personal information of my clients, as you will understand. However, I suppose I could give you the number of his spa. It's a listed number so that should be fine. I'm sure you should be able to talk to someone there who can help you."

_His spa? Hmm… _Milliardo thought. He put a relieved smile into his voice as he replied. "Thank you that would be very much appreciated. Let me grab something to write with."

###

He woke up to a foul smell and something wet and warm touching his face. A heavy weight was pressing down on his chest, making it uncomfortable to breath.

"Geez, Snowball!" Treize Khushrenada raised his hand, trying to push away the tiger. "What have you been eating? Go find some mint in the garden or something."

The answer was a low chuff and another lick to his nose.

"Get off my bed!"

He pushed a little harder and finally the large cat pulled away. He could hear it hit the ground with a soft thumb and at about the same moment another sound, something akin to paper rustling, reached his ear. Startled the incubus prince jerked up, his brain registering two things at the same time. First, his injured upper arm was wrapped in a thick white bandage, and secondly, a tall, dark figure was sitting in his armchair across the room thumbing through some kind of magazine.

"Leigh?!" he exclaimed in surprise mixed with a good portion of annoyance. "How did you get in here?"

His bodyguard thrust his thumb over his shoulder toward the living room. "Patio door."

"I don't remember leaving it unlocked."

"I never claimed it was unlocked."

Treize threw a semi annoyed look at his 'pet'. "What kind of guardian are you anyway? I have seen Chihuahuas more vicious than you."

In response the large cat yawned, exposing a set of impressive teeth, stretched and strolled over to Leigh to get his head scratched.

"Whiskas here and I have an agreement," the tall incubus explained as he patted the animal between its ears. "He won't try to eat me, and in return I won't turn him into a winter coat."

Treize snorted. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Nichols sent me, my Prince. You didn't show up for the press interview at the new spa and didn't answer your phone."

"I thought that interview was scheduled for the afternoon."

"Uh huh," Leigh confirmed, "Monday afternoon. Today is Tuesday."

"What?" The incubus prince reached for his Rolex on the nightstand, his eyes widening slightly. _I slept for nearly 42 hours. _"Why didn't you wake me?"

"**He**," Leigh gestured at the white tiger, "wouldn't let me."

The animal looked at his master, gave another yawn and strutted out of the room.

"You bandaged my arm."

"**That** he would allow," the other incubus replied. "You never even stirred through it, so I figured you might be healing."

Incubi, like some other greater demons had the ability to put themselves into a 'healing sleep,' a coma like state that allowed their bodies to utilize all its energy for recovery.

"That wound…" Leigh continued. "What happened, my Prince?"

"Nothing." Treize nearly growled, indicating that he didn't want to talk about it.

"I phoned Nichols. He sent for Lady Une, she is on her way."

"I wish he hadn't. I do not need her," the incubus prince replied. "Go and wait for me in the car. I shall join you shortly."

With a nod of acknowledgement Leigh rose to his feet. He headed for the door, but slowed and held his step just at the threshold.

"Those burns…There is only one weapon I know of that can cause those. If he is here in town, and after you, you do realize that sooner or later you will have to kill him…again."

"Get out!" Treize snarled, his eyes turning from blue to black.

This time Leigh didn't stop until he had closed the front door behind himself. He was known to be brazen, perhaps, but not suicidal.

###

"I wish Father would stop treating me like a 12 year old," Quatre grumbled as he slipped behind the wheel of his car and turned on the ignition."

Next to him in the passenger seat Triton cocked his fury head and looked at him with brown puppy eyes.

The engine sound went from the purring of a kitten to the roar of a tiger as the young man put his foot down on the gas pedal and darted down the long driveway a bit faster than the speed limit allowed. Beside him the air started to shimmer.

"Trying to figure out what it takes to kill us?" Trowa asked dryly while fastening his seatbelt.

Quatre snorted but throttled down the gas.

"Father is impossible," he complained. "He never tells me anything about Mother's family. Every time I ask he just says he doesn't know them and has never met them, but I can tell he is lying. Why doesn't he trust me? Must be an adult thing."

Trowa cocked his head slightly, almost mirroring the gesture of his canine self, and gave the blonde a questioning look.

"Just yesterday Howard tells me he trusts me, but he won't tell me anything about those people that sometimes come to visit him. Why all the secrecy?"

"Have you ever considered he is just trying to protect you?"

"Howard or my father?" Quatre threw his passenger a brief gaze.

"Both."

Another snort. "Why do you always have to be so damn logical?"

There was a long moment of silence as the sport scar took the onramp to the freeway. Then suddenly Quatre asked.

"Trowa, what do you know about werewolves?"

"Ah!"

"Ah?"

"I was wondering when that question would come. Couldn't help but notice your choice of reading material this week. Werewolves are not demons."

"I know that already. I met one, at Howards the other day and yesterday again…I think. I felt no demonic aura around him. But exactly what are they?"

"Mortals, at least in part. They are humans who either have the inborn ability to shift into a creature resembling a wolf, or use magic to do so. Of course, werewolves are not real wolves either. They are larger and have superhuman strength and speed in addition to their canine senses. A werewolf can smell a drop of blood in a bucket of water, he can see at night as clear as during the day, can count the hair on the head of his prey, and hear it approach from miles away. True werewolves also retain their intelligence while in wolf form."

"True werewolves?" Quatre asked. They were now weaving through lazy midday traffic.

"Those born as such, as compared to those created by magic." Trowa explained.

The blonde gave an impressed whistle. "I suppose that means they are a lot more dangerous then."

"Bingo."

"And I assume only true werewolves can turn people into their kind by biting them."

Trowa nearly rolled his eyes. "No," he said. "Only Hollywood can do that. Werewolves procreate mostly like any human being just by…"

"Alright, you don't need to get into details. Dad already gave me the talk about the birds and the bees years ago." Quatre grinned. "But you said mostly. Does that mean there **are** other ways?"

"There might be," the demon agreed with a shrug. "But biting is definitely not one of them. Just think about it….when you get bitten the blood will probably flush out most of the foreign DNA and what little stays in the wound might be enough to create an infection, but certainly not a werebeast."

"Hmm… Good point." Quatre admitted as he left the freeway. "What about killing them with silver bullets? Another Hollywood myth?"

"No, actually silver bullets will do quite well. Precious metals increases magic flow, as you know, and many demons or magical creatures are sensitive to it. Of course a few well placed rounds from a machine gun or other heavy power weapon will do the trick just the same."

"Perhaps I should start lugging around an Uzi with me." the blonde grinned pulling into the small side street leading to Howard's bookstore. But the grin all but fell from his face as his eyes caught the shattered shop window.

"Wow!" Quatre climbed out of the car, and walked toward the store, carefully moving around broken glass and splintered wood. "Did we have another earthquake?"

"I don't think so." Trowa replied quietly.

Something was moving inside the store. In the blink of an eye the tall demon moved in front of Quatre.

"Stay behind me," he ordered just as the door opened to reveal Howard carrying a bucket of something that looked like dust or ashes.

Trowa relaxed somewhat.

"What happened?" Quatre wanted to know. "Rowdies? Burglars?" He couldn't actually imagine someone trying to steal old books, but some half-witted hooligan might figure there was money left in the cash register over night.

"Vampires." Trowa replied before Howard could say anything, and the old man nodded.

"They broke the window and made it about half way into the store before the wards hit them. I can't imagine they came on foot, and since I didn't find any strange cars parked in the vicinity I assume at least one of them got away."

"You've got protective wards set up in the store?" the blonde asked surprised.

"Don't worry, I turned them off already. But you never know when they might come in handy," Howard shrugged as he dumped dusty remains from his bucket onto a patch of grass next to the building.

Quatre had heard that wood ashes could be used for fertilizing, but he wasn't sure if the same was true for vampire remains.

"It's a bit of a mess," Howard scratched his head. "I don't think we will open today. So, if you want to take the day off…"

Quatre shook his head. "Since I'm here already I might as well help with cleaning up. We will get it done faster together."

"I'll stay too," Trowa replied, and then at Quatre's questioning look he added with a shrug. "I have nothing better to do today."

"Yeah, what is it you do while I am at work, anyway?" the blonde wanted to know as they both followed the old man back into the store."

Another shrug from the demon. "I go places?"

"Where?"

"…places."

Quatre snorted.

"The police should be here soon. And I called the window repair guy. He said he will send someone by within an hour or so to take measurements. If they have the right kind of glass panes in stock they will have it fixed by tonight."

"You called the police? What are you going to tell them, that some creatures of the night broke into your place and got themselves fried? What do you think they wanted here anyway?" Quatre asked. Vampires, as far as he knew had no need for money, and judging from what he had seen they didn't strike him as the intellectual types either.

Howard shrugged. "Who knows? Gotta make a police report, though. Otherwise the insurance company won't pay."

As the young man was looking around, taking in the mess caused by the nightly intruders…tumbled display pieces, knocked over shelves, books and magazines all over the floor…something struck him he hadn't thought of before.

"Where is Oscar?"

"I have no idea. I haven't seen him since I got here."

"You don't think…" Quatre swallowed as he felt his stomach sink.

"Nah. That cat is one tough cookie. He probably went into hiding somewhere when they came in and took off as soon as he got a chance." Howard's words were meant to sound heartening, but they didn't come out quite as convincing as they were supposed to.

"Shall we get started?" Trowa suggested, just as a black and white patrol car pulled up outside.

####

Wufei was sitting in the kitchen, as though he had never moved after Milliardo went to bed. Only his outfit and slightly damp hair indicated that he had showered and changed not too long ago, probably after morning class at the dojo.

"Do you ever sleep?" the blonde asked as he shuffled toward the coffee maker. "Are you sure that you are human yourself?"

His housemate huffed. "I did sleep; for a few hours anyway. But I had to get up at 7. I promised Master O to call him."

"In China?"

"They **do** have electronics there, you know."

"So, I've heard," snorted Milliardo as he pulled a mug from the cabinet and picked a flavored dark roast from the coffee dispenser. "What I meant is; has he come back yet?"

He had met Wufei's karate instructor before, a few times when picking his friend up at the dojo. But he hadn't realized until last night that O was also a guardian as well as Wufei's superior, and in a way his foster parent.

The machine started to splutter and hiss. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the kitchen.

"No. It's only been 24 hours since he left. He's barely got there," Wufei pointed out. "I informed him that I'm back to staying with you and that I have told you everything and promised that there wouldn't be any more secrets. He agreed that it was probably for the best."

"Then what is it that's bothering you?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," the young man frowned slightly.

"Come on, I have see that face before. You are troubled about something." Cupping his coffee mug with both hands Milliardo took a long sip of the steaming hot and energizing brew before settling down at the breakfast counter next to Wufei. "Is it me?"

"No," Wufei shook his head, but didn't look at the blonde. Instead he started to study his fingernails. "The elders want to talk to me…personally."

"Is that…unusual?"

Wufei gave a little shrug. "I have never before been called before the council, but I suppose this isn't exactly a normal situation either. They might just want to hear my report and opinion from my own lips rather than reading it."

"Yeah?" Milliardo wasn't convinced that his friend was completely honest with him. "Isn't that why conference calls were invented?"

Wufei hesitated, and then sighed. "I messed up, Milliardo…big time. Not only did I allow that incubus to get close to you I also misjudged the situation and underestimated him when I confronted him. Even though O had warned me about him. Although I have been trained for a long time, for a guardian I'm rather young and inexperienced. The Elders took a big chance when they assigned me to watch over you. I don't know if they will give me another one."

Now it was Milliardo's turn to frown. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked as he put down his coffee.

"The council might decide that I need more training, or they might think that I would serve our cause better somewhere else. I told you, the guardians have local chapters all around the world. I might be sent to one of those locations and another guardian would take over my duties here."

"Just like that?"

"Milliardo, I'm sure that whoever takes over for me will be just as capable and …"

"Fuck capable," Milliardo growled. "Fuck your Elders and Fuck the Guardians altogether. I already told you how I feel about that. I don't need them. I'm **not** some kind of pet that can be passed on from one owner to the next because I'm too much to handle."

"Milliardo, please!" Wufei told him calmly.

The older man took a few deep breaths, calming himself. "I don't trust them, Wufei. They have lied to me for more than 20 years, no matter how 'honorable' their intention might have been. I won't accept anyone else but you; not because you are a guardian but because I consider you my friend." He paused, looking at his housemate. "Unless of course,…after what happened you'd rather not stay."

"Hell no, I like it here. But it's not as though I have much of a choice. When I chose to become a guardian I also chose to accept their rules and laws," Wufei admitted.

"You were 8 years old when you parents put your on a plane and sent you here. That wasn't much of a choice you made. But you are not a child anymore, so do you want let a bunch of wrinkled old men tell you how to live your life? To hell with them."

The younger man gave a low laugh.

"Did I say something funny?"

"Wrinkled old men?! I am sure at least half of the council would take offence to that."

"They are not wrinkled?"

"They aren't men."

"What do I know?" Milliardo snorted. "But in any case. Tell them what I said. It's either you or nobody. When will you be leaving?"

"They will let me know," Wufei replied. "Hopefully not until the end of the week. I have an assignment due on Friday which I haven't finished yet."

"Oh, is that why you're not going to class this morning?"

"What do you mean? What time is it?" Wufei checked the clock on the wall and cursed. "Shit, I didn't realize it's that late already. Let's hope traffic isn't too bad."

He grabbed his books, shoving them into his backpack along with his laptop, jumped to his feet and downed the last of his orange juice in one long gulp.

"Do you want me to drive you? I **can** get you there in time."

"Thanks, but no thanks." Wufei was already on his way out. "I prefer to get there in one piece."

Milliardo just shrugged. "Suit yourself."

###

"I'm starving." Quatre groaned as he put aside his broom and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

The little bookshop looked almost like it was ready to be opened again. Minus the large storefront window of course, which wasn't going to be installed until later in the evening.

"Tr…Triton won't you go grab us something to eat? I'm sure Howard has worked up an appetite, too."

"Why don't you come with me?" the tall demon didn't seem to like the idea of leaving the blonde behind.

"Oh come on," the young man argued. "It's not like I'm going to be alone. Besides, it's the middle of the afternoon, the sun is shining. So I don't think we have to worry about any more of them showing up here right now."

"Very well," Trowa finally agreed. "What do you want to eat?"

"There is a sandwich place on 13th street," Howard suggested. "I'll call the order in by phone and by the time you get there it will be ready for pick up. They bake their own bread, and you can ask for nearly any topping possible."

"Sounds great. I'm up for a ham and Swiss on rye with a side of pickles, and chips; a large bag. And you?" he looked at Trowa.

The demon shook his head. "I'm fine. I'll eat later," he added with a little smirk.

As the older man disappeared into the office to make the call, Trowa left the store and climbed behind the wheel of the sports car. Quatre waited for him to drive off before following Howard. He stopped at the door to the office, unsure whether to enter or not until the older man waved him in.

"…no, I think that's all. Thanks." Howard hung up the phone and gestured for the young man to sit down. From the chair behind his desk he could easily keep an eye on the store through the open door.

Quatre took a slow look around, somewhat disappointed with the result of his inspection. With all the secrecy he had expected a little more from this room than just more shelves filled with more books. But then again, this was a bookstore.

Howard seemed to be reading his mind.

"What did you expect?"

"I'm not sure?" the young man shrugged, then looked at the store owner. "Listen, I didn't want to say anything in front of Trowa, but I think what happened last night was my fault."

"What makes you say that?" Howard gave him a surprised look.

"Remember a few days ago when those three vampire guys showed up at the store and you threw them out? Well, they waited for me that evening, catching me off guard as I walked to my car. There were four of them then. Trowa showed up just at the right time. He took out three of them but I stopped him from following the fourth. Trowa said it was a mistake to let the guy go, and that he would be back looking for revenge…I guess he was right."

"Why didn't you tell me? I mean, I figured something must have happened for him to suddenly drive you all the way to the store and pick you up every evening out in front. I just didn't realize those bastards went after you."

"I guess I should have told you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, kid. This wasn't your fault. In fact if anyone is to blame for what happened to you it would be me."

"What do you mean?" Quatre frowned. "Because you threw them out?"

"No," Howard shook his head. "It started long before that. About two months ago, to be precise. One evening, you weren't working and I was just closing up when some guy showed up telling me he is working for someone who would like to buy my store. I told him thanks but no thanks, I'm not interested in selling. He tells me that this isn't a very safe neighborhood and all kind of bad things could happen to good people. I should think about his offer, he would be back. Ever since things **have** been happening; last night of course being the worse so far."

"Someone is trying to bully you into selling," Quatre concluded. "But why? What would anyone want with this store…no offence?"

"Not the store," Howard shook his head. "I think it's the building they are interested in. From what I've heard someone has been buying a lot of real-estate in this neighborhood."

"Why?" Quatre repeated, puzzled. "This isn't exactly a first-rate area for business."

"Depends on the business," Howard replied. "Lots of old warehouses from back when Orange County still lived up to its name. Many of them are climate controlled."

"Are you talking illegal business, like growing and storing pot?"

"Maybe?" Howard shrugged. "But what do I know? Maybe someone just wants to bulldoze the whole lot and put up another few of those luxury apartment buildings."

"Either way, there is one question that puzzles me. Why would a drug lord, or a real-estate developer for that matter… employ vampires?"

The old man gave another shrug. "They do make great enforcers, don't cost much and are expendable."

"But vampires don't let themselves being bossed around by any mere mortal. So it would have to be someone who can control them," Quatre mused. "Say Howard, that 'guy' who wanted to buy your store, it wasn't Treize Khushrenada by any chance, was it?"

Howards brows furrowed. "How do you know Treize Khushrenada?"

"He was here the other day when those vampires came calling, remember?"

"Yeah, but I don't recall introducing the two of you."

"I met him again, a few days later; family social function," the blonde explained.

"Ah, right. I keep forgetting he and your folks probably move in the same social circles."

"So, is he the one?" Quatre prodded.

"Listen kid, if you want my advice, don't stick your nose too deep into other people's business. Some day something might jump out at you and bite it off."

_Do I take this as a 'yes'? _the young man wondered, but before he could ask anything else Howard suddenly looked past him at something outside.

"Looks like our food is here."

Quatre turned his head to see Trowa climb out of his car.

"Don't tell him what you just told me. He would never let me come here again."

Howard gave a little amused laugh. "And here I was under the impression **you** were **his** master."

###

_Twenty-three missing persons reports. Sure, there are a lot of teenagers amongst them, but it just doesn't seem to fit the usual runaway scenarios. _Otto was mulling over the facts he had gathered from those reports, trying to find something those people had in common. So far he couldn't see it. Those people came from different schools, different neighborhoods and different backgrounds.

The other night there had been a report of an attempted kidnapping near Quail Hills. It had made all the newspapers and even the local TV station talked about it. The targets, two young women, were smart enough to make enough noise to attract attention. Unfortunately the attacker(s) got away and nobody could give a good description. Eyewitness couldn't even agree on the color and model of the vehicle, except that it was a dark van with tinted windows and dirty license plates. It was as though someone out there was kidnapping random people without rhyme or reason. But there hadn't been any ransom demands either as far as he knew.

His fingertips tapped against the surface of his desk as his eyes flew over the list of names once again.

_What is going on? Who and what is behind this? White slavery? Some mad serial killer, like Juan Corona in the 70s?_ The thought sent a shiver down his back and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. But there hadn't been any bodies found…at least not yet.

_Twenty-three,_ he thought, _and that doesn't include anyone who might not have been reported, homeless people, illegals, prostitutes, elderly living on their own. _

The taskforce the chief was talking about was a good step in the right direction. It would allow him to put more manpower and recourses onto these cases. _We will need to talk to everyone again_, he thought, _find some kind of common denominator, if there was one._

The phone on his desk began to ring, startling the Lieutenant out of his thoughts. He reached out to pick up.

"Lieutenant Fisher speaking."

"Lieutenant, this is Angela Novara. Are you free at the moment?"

"Um... yes, why?"

"I'm sitting here with Miss Saunders, and she would like to talk to you. Any chance you could meet us?"

"Sure. Where?"

"The 'Tealeaf' in the Cypress shopping center, just off Jeffrey."

Otto checked his watch. It was shortly after 4 pm. Traffic was going to be hell. "I can be there in twenty minutes."

"Great," the young woman replied. "We will see you then."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 19**

Angela Novara looked more like a supermodel than a worker for the CPA; long legs, curves where it counted and a smile that could turn any man with a heartbeat into a puddle of goo. Otto wasn't sure how she had managed to convince Emily Saunders to talk to him, but as far as he was concerned what mattered was that she did.

"Lieutenant Fisher, I presume?"

Her voice sounded even more appealing than on the phone and when she reached out to shake his hand she gave him a warm smile.

_Don't drool! _He told himself as he took her hand. Her grip was remarkably strong for a woman.

"Miss Novara! Miss Saunders!" he nodded at the teenage girl and she returned the gesture without actually looking into his face.

There was a long moment of silence while Otto slipped into the seat across from the two of them. It was Miss Novara who finally spoke.

"I believe Emily here has something to tell you, Lieutenant; something regarding her brother." She gave the girl an encouraging smile and a nod.

Emily fidgeted for a few moments, starring down into her cup of what looked like milk tea. Finally she took a deep breath and looked up.

"Kyle didn't plan on coming home right away after the party last night," she confessed. "He was going to meet up with some other…friends."

"You knew about that?" Otto asked quietly.

She nodded. "He called me, around 10. Mom and Dad were upstairs watching a movie. He said he had to go to a LARP party or something for a while."

"LARP…what?"

He exchanged a questioning look with Angela Novara to see if she knew what the girl was talking about. Apparently she did.

"Live Action Role Playing," the CPA agent explained. "Imagine a bunch of kids dressing up as their favorite characters, coming together and acting out role-playing actions."

Emily nodded eagerly. "With the Twilight movies and stuff everybody seems to be into vampires right now. They are playing everywhere, even in my school." She shook her head and snorted. "They're mostly geeks. You should see them standing around at the corner with their arms crossed in front of their chest pretending to be invisible or something."

"I take it you are not into that kind of stuff?" Otto asked.

She gave another snort. "No!"

"But your brother…is?" He had to stop himself from saying 'was'.

"Not really. You see, it's a bit complicated…" She looked from the Lieutenant to Angela and back. "You are sure my parents won't find out about this?"

"Anything you are telling us is in confidence," the dark-haired woman assured her.

"Alright. Last Spring Kyle had some trouble in school. He had just made the varsity football team, and he just couldn't keep up with his school work and practices. Someone on the team told him that there were geeks who didn't mind some extra homework or writing a report for the right price, and introduced him to this guy Mike. Kyle had Mike write a couple of reports for him. I swear it was only homework; he never cheated on tests or anything. He would pay Mike, but not only in money."

"Drugs?" Otto asked.

The girl shook her head forcefully. "No, no nothing like that. Kyle isn't stupid…well, not that stupid at least." She sighed again. "Mike is apparently a big shot in the vampire LARP community."

The Lieutenant had to force himself not to roll his eyes. _Holy Canoly, teenage vampire wannabes! What next?_

"Every once in a while when they were short on players Kyle would go and hang out with them for a while."

"And that's what he was going to do the night he disappeared?"

Emily nodded. "Last thing he said to me was that he was going to be home by 2 or 3 a.m. and he would message me so that I could turn off the alarm and let him in without waking my parents. But I fell asleep, and when I woke in the morning there was no message and he hadn't come home."

Angela touched the girl's arm reassuringly. "You did the right thing telling us."

"Do you know Mike's last name?" Otto wanted to know.

She shook her head. "No idea, sorry."

"Oh well," the Lieutenant said. "It shouldn't be too hard to find out. Is it possible for me to borrow your phone?"

"Umm…" she looked a little confused, pulled it from her pocket and pushed it across the table toward him. "Yeah sure."

He gave a little smile. "I think you misunderstood. I would like to take it with me, and have our expert check it out. Maybe they can somehow figure out where Kyle called you from that night."

"How long is that going to take?" Emily frowned at him.

Angela gave a brief chuckle. "It will be alright. Trust me; it is possible to survive without a phone for a few days."

"Yeah, I guess," she sighed. "If there isn't anything else, I really need to go now. If I'm late for Lacrosse Coach will call my mom and she will know that I lied to her about early practice."

"I think we are done here. Thanks."

"I will drive you," the CPA agent offered as she rose to her feet.

"Emily," Otto told the girl. "No matter what, I think you should talk to your parents about this. I have a feeling they won't react as badly as you might think."

"But that's just it. They probably won't say anything. They just will be really disappointed. Good bye, Lieutenant."

"Good bye."

She reached for her sport bag, draping the handle over her slim shoulder then turned once more to face him.

"You are going to find him, won't you? Kyle I mean."

He wanted nothing more than to say 'yes'. He wanted to tell her that her brother would be home in a few days and that everything would be okay. But instead he just gave her an encouraging smile. "I will do whatever I can, that much I promise."

###

"Going out?"

Wufei was coming up in the elevator just as Milliardo was about to leave.

"Yeah. I got…um…something to take care of."

The blonde was wearing a dark T-shirt over a pair of faded and ripped designer jeans. Wufei never understood the logic of paying extra for something that looked like it already went through a few previous owners.

"You in a hurry, or do you have a moment to talk?"

"I guess," Milliardo shrugged as they headed back into the apartment together. "What is it?"

"I got something for you."

His roommate set his backpack onto the ground and knelt down beside it. He started to rummage in one of the side pockets and finally pulled out a small red container about the size of a box of cigarettes.

Milliardo frowned slightly as the younger man handed him the package.

"Open it."

It wasn't wrapped or tied with a ribbon or anything indicating that it was supposed to be a present of sorts. One of Milliardo's eyebrows rose as he pulled open the top to reveal a small coin or medallion strung up on a band of brown leather. There were symbols carved into the coin that looked like Chinese characters to the young man.

"It's not even my birthday. You shouldn't have."

"It's an amulet. I had it enchanted by someone who knows how to perform spells."

Milliardo, who had reached out to remove the charm from its case, pulled back his hand.

"What does it do?" he asked suspiciously.

"It protects you."

"Uh huh," the blond nodded knowingly as he walked into the living room and set the box down onto the low coffee table. "So, what does it do?" he repeated as he dropped into one of the leather chairs.

Wufei followed the other man.

"Imagine it being something like a small force field," he explained as he settled down on the couch. "It will keep your aura at least partially concealed from other demons. And it should give any demon who tries to touch you a bit of a nasty surprise. It isn't very strong, so it can't protect you from actual physical attacks but it will give you at least a warning and a small advantage."

He looked at Milliardo warily, not sure what kind of reaction to expect. But to his relief the blonde gave a soft smile.

"Thanks. I appreciate it. What do I do with it?"

"You wear it." Wufei gave him a look that clearly said 'Doh!' "I left the string long enough for you to fit it around your neck or on your wrist. It will be more powerful closer to your heart, but if you choose to wear it on your arm put it on your left. And please, do wear it when I'm not around."

"I will," Milliardo nodded as he cautiously touched the amulet still in its box. "But say, if it is supposed to 'zap' demons how come I am safe from it?"

"That's because it was made especially for you."

"How does it know that?"

"I used something of yours as an ingredient for the spell," Wufei admitted.

"Something of mine…?" the blonde looked at him suspiciously.

"Yeah." His friend smiled wryly. "You're going to need a new toothbrush, I'm afraid."

"My toothbrush? Well, I guess I needed a new one anyway." Milliardo finally removed the amulet from its case, studying it carefully. It didn't look like much; more or less like some cheap tourist trinket someone might have brought home from a trip to Asia.

"Are you sure you really got what you paid for? This doesn't look real to me."

"Trust me," Wufei assured him. "It works. By the way, I was told that the power of the charm can be amplified by your own power."

"How?" The young man put the amulet around his neck, adjusted the leather bands so that it was dangling just above his breast bone and tied them with a secure knot.

"I suppose you just focus your energy into the charm," Wufei shrugged. "I don't know, I don't have those kinds of powers."

Milliardo rose to his feet and took a few steps toward the DVD tower. In its tall mirrored doors he studied his own reflection, then wrinkled his nose. "Not much of a fashion statement, is it?" he decided. "Focus my energy, huh?"

He wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he tried to concentrate on the amulet around his neck.

"Wow!" the young man suddenly exclaimed. "It is getting warm."

"Warm as in burning you?" Wufei jumped to his feet in alarm.

"No, it was a soft kind of warmth, like it is glowing. It's gone now. It stopped as soon as I broke my concentration. Do you think that was my power?"

"I don't know. Let's try something." Wufei suggested. "Focus again and then imagine I'm someone trying to hurt you."

"But you are not a demon," Milliardo pointed out.

"Let's give it a try anyway."

"Okay." The young man shrugged.

"Ready?" Wufei asked a few moments later, and at Milliardo's silent nod he reached out trying to touch his friend. But before his fingers even made contact he could feel a sudden pain that hit him like a spark of energy. He gasped in surprise.

"Did it work?"

"I guess, but I don't think you were really taking me seriously. Let's try it again. This time imagine that I'm the guy who banged his shopping cart into your car, last week at the mall. And I'm about to do it again."

Milliardo's eyes narrowed. "Don't remind me," he growled.

The younger man smirked, but that smirk all but vanished as he reached out again and suddenly was hit by something that catapulted him across the room like a rag doll. The force threw him against the wall and knocked the air out of his lungs.

"Wufei!"

Milliardo's alarmed outcry reached him through a thick haze. He carefully shook his head and tried to push himself up. "I'm fine. I'm fine," he assured his friend, still trying to catch his breath. "But let's remember not to do this again."

"Wow. Did I really do that?" Milliardo stared down at himself in awe. "And I didn't even touch you. That's… wild."

"Yeah." Wufei agreed. "I believe we just tapped into your powers. But I don't think we should do that again on our own." _I have a feeling we really only skimmed the surface. But I do feel a lot better now, knowing that he is able to protect himself if he has to._

_###_

"That was the Handyman," Howard announced after hanging up the phone in his office. "Apparently they made a mistake and don't have the right size glass pane in stock after all. So the new window won't be installed until tomorrow."

"Bummer." Quatre checked the time on his cell phone. It was almost 5:30. They had finished cleaning up the store and had been waiting for the window installers to arrive. "What now?"

"I guess I will just stay here over night. You," the old man looked at Trowa. "Take him home."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" the blonde asked. "What if …"

"Don't worry," Howard cut him off. "It's going to be fine. Nothing is going to happen. Besides, maybe Oscar will come home when he gets hungry from having a good run around. I should be here when he comes back."

"Okay," Quatre agreed with a shrug, "if you think you will be safe. Let's go home. I have some homework to finish up anyway."

Trowa gave the young man a skeptical look as he rose to his feet. As far as he was concerned, Quatre was giving in way too quickly and far too easily. But instead of voicing his suspicion the tall demon just nodded at Howard.

"Good night."

"Night. And thanks for all your help."

"Night Howard. Take care. Come on, let's go." Quatre urged on his way to the door. "If we are lucky we will make it home for dinner. It's lasagna night."

The old man's eyes followed the odd couple as they made their way to the silver sports car parked out in front. He watched Trowa climb behind the wheel while the younger man slipped into the passenger seat. Only when the car had driven off, its red taillights disappearing in the distance, did he reach for the phone on his desk, dialing a number he knew by heart.

At the other end the phone rang a number of times before someone picked up.

"Yes?" a low, male voice said.

"It's Howard," he introduced himself. "We need to talk."

"Oh?!"

"Yeah. Things have been getting out of hand. I'm afraid sooner or later someone might get hurt if this goes on." He paused, hesitating for a few seconds before he continued. "I'm ready to take your offer, if it still stands."

####

He could hear Treize talk to someone, probably over the phone, when he knocked at the door to his office. It was a quarter to six; business was running slowly at this hour as usual. It would pick up again after dinner time and then they were booked solid all the way through to closing at 11.

"Come in!"

Nichols opened the door and waited. The incubus prince waved him in as he continued his conversation.

"I can be there in about an hour. No, that should not be a problem. I will see you then."

He hung up the phone, and then looked at his assistant.

"Have you seen this?" he asked, pointing at an article in a newspaper spread out on his desk.

The dark-haired incubus stepped closer and nodded. The news article in question referred to an incident that occurred the night before in a parking lot at the same shopping center where Treize's new spa, the 'Gilded Rose', was located. Somebody… or something had attacked two young women. The newspaper called it an attempted kidnapping.

"Yes, I'm aware of it, my Prince."

"I don't like it. Someone is hunting in my territory; I think it's time I put my foot down and showed them that isn't acceptable." Treize's voice was calm and almost soft, but his eyes were cold enough to bring on the next ice age.

Nichols nodded. "I have someone looking into it already." he said. "The security cameras at the spa captured a few useful shots."

"Excellent."

The incubus prince rose from his chair and strolled to the window to watch the slowly sinking sun. He was dressed in a pair of dark gray slacks and a white shirt that bulged slightly at his still bandaged upper arm. He had refused to see Une earlier during the day and sent her back home without feeding, even though it was apparent that the injury was still bothering him. "Keep me informed…and share those photos with the police."

"The police?"

Treize turned, leaning against the window for a moment. "They are after all being paid to protect us. As good citizen we should do what we can to help them."

"Of course, my Prince."

"By the way, did I see Sebastian earlier manning the phone? How is he coming along?"

"He is a quick learner," Nichols admitted. "The men seem to like him, in spite of who he is. It's something about his personality that makes it very easy for him to connect with others it seems. But he is way too carefree, if you ask me."

"It's called being young." Treize gave him a soft smile. "Let them have fun; they will eventually outgrow it; we just have to make sure we can keep them alive long enough. You and I never had that luxury, because when we were their age we were busy just trying to stay alive and dodge my father's assassins and bounty hunters."

"We had fun, too." Nichols replied. "Occasionally."

"We did, I suppose," the incubus prince confirmed, his smile widening as a wave of nostalgia washed over him. "Times were pretty good, weren't they? In between the running and the hiding and the killing, I mean. In any case; as I said before Sebastian has potential, but he still has a lot to learn. That's why I want him to continue to stay with you for the time being."

Nichols opened his mouth as though to protest.

"Is that a problem?"

The dark haired incubus sighed inwardly and shook his head. "Of course not, my Prince."

"Excellent. That will be all for now." Treize turned his attention back toward the darkening sky outside the window. "Tell Leigh to bring the car around, I have to meet someone."

"Luther is driving tonight. I sent Leigh out to look for that van."

"That's fine."

Taking that as a dismissal Nichols turned to leave the office, but before he even reached the door the incubus prince cleared his throat.

"Nick?!"

He held his step. It had been a very long time since anyone had called him by that name.

"Have you ever regretted following me?"

"Never!" He didn't even have to think about it.

There was no answer. Nichols waited for another 30 seconds or so before finally walking out of the room.

###

Through the tinted windows of his gray Toyota he had a clear view of the entrance to the "Serene Rose". Milliardo had the good sense of not using his own Corvette but a rental to come here. He had parked the car in the 'employees only' lot of a dental lab across the street. Armed with a box of donuts and a thermos full of coffee, geput his feet up on the dashboard, pulled the black baseball cap down to shade his eyes, and waited…and waited…and waited.

By the time the sun was beginning to sink the thermos was empty and the donuts were starting to taste stale… and way too sweet. Pulling an imaginary tape recorder from his pocket the young man pretended to turn it on and spoke in his best Bogey expression.

"Stake-out time, 6:23, still no sign of the target. Note to self; take Private Detective off my 'What I want to be when I grow up' list."

With a sigh Milliardo removed his legs from the dashboard and stretched his long limbs. Beneath his shirt the metal of the protective charm Wufei had given him felt cool against his skin. He leaned to the right to open the passenger door and brushed the donut box from the seat next to him. It landed upside down on the blacktop next to the car. Sooner or later some crows or rats or possums would make short work of its contents, and probably even the box itself.

_So, maybe this wasn't my best idea ever,_ the young man yawned.

He was still trying to decide whether to call it a day or not when a black town car pulled up in front of the spa.

_Bingo! That's gotta be his._

He had seen all kinds of cars coming and going in the past few hours. But people don't take a limousine to go to the spa, do they?

Moments later Milliardo saw him; dressed in a dark but not quite black suit and a white shirt that stood out from beneath the unbuttoned jacket.

Treize Khushrenada stepped out onto the sidewalk next to the limo and looked up into the sky, whilst the driver exited the car and walked around it to open the door for him. The man was build like a professional football player and dressed like he was trying out for the secret service. He didn't look like someone you wanted to cut off in traffic.

Suddenly Treize turned his head, and for a moment Milliardo could have sworn the incubus was looking directly at him. Instinctively he pulled his baseball cap deeper into his eyes and ducked into his seat.

###

Treize frowned. For most of the afternoon he hadn't been able to shake the feeling of a familiar presence nearby, but he had marked it up as being overly wary after his clash with the Long guardian. But now out here in the street the feeling was even stronger. It almost felt like…

He searched the surroundings with his eyes, reached out with his senses, but there was nothing suspicious. It was certainly not glamour.

"…Sir!"

He turned at the sound of Nichols voice. His assistant was running toward him across the spa's lobby, waving something in his hand that looked like…

_My attaché case! I put it down on the counter when I stopped to talk to Sebastian. _Treize kicked himself mentally. _One of these days I'm going to forget my own head._

"You are going to need that, aren't you?"

"Yes, thanks. Oh, do me a favor, Nichols. Have $500 000 transferred into my personal expenses account. I think I'm a little low."

_Half a Million? _"Yes, of course, Sir. I will see to it right away. Planning on buying something?"

"A bookstore." The incubus prince replied calmly and turned his head as the car door was being opened for him. "Thank you Luth…"

He blinked, did a double take and looked his driver up and down in disbelief. Luther was dressed in a black custom fit suit, set off with a red and silver pinstripe tie. His eyes were hidden beneath reflective sunglasses, and his head shone in the beam of the streetlights.

"What happened to your…hair?"

"Cool, isn't it?" Luther grinned as he brushed the palm of his hand over his bald head. "Sebastian and I went shopping together. He says it looks just like in the movies."

Treize looked at him and for a moment the corner of his mouth quivered as though he wasn't sure if he wanted to burst out into laughter or tears. He finally turned a questioning eye toward Nichols. The dark-haired incubus gave a little shrug.

"It's called being young and carefree, Sir."

"This isn't Hollywood central. Tell Sebastian to stop watching those damn TV shows." Treize growled.

Then he turned to his driver, put his hand on the large man's shoulder in an almost fatherly fashion and shook his head. "Luther, don't take fashion advice from someone who, if he were a mortal, wouldn't even be shaving yet. Now let's get going. Someone is waiting for me."

"Yes, Sir."

Luther waited for the prince to climb into the back of the car, slammed the door closed and slipped into the driver seat.

"Where are we going?" he asked with a look into the rear view mirror.

Treize gave him the address before pulling out his phone to check his emails.

The car's engine started and moments later it pulled away from the curb. For a good five or ten minutes they weaved in and out of evening traffic as they made their way through town. Suddenly Luther cleared his throat.

"There is someone on our tail. You want me to shake him, Boss?"

"Excuse me?!"

"I believe we are being followed…Sir."

Treize turned his head to check the street behind them.

"The gray Toyota a few cars back," Luther told him. "It's been following us ever since we left the spa."

The incubus prince nodded. He remembered seeing the same car in the parking lot across the street just before they had left.

"Take a right at the next crossroad and then another right. Let's see if he will follow us."

With a nod of acknowledgement Luther did as he was told. He slowed down after the second turn, keeping an eye out for the Toyota. Sure enough, a few moments later the gray car turned into the side street, slowing down as well as it did so.

"Can you get rid of him?"

The bald demon snorted. "Does Santa live at the North Pole?"

###

"Damn it!" Milliardo slammed his fist angrily against the dashboard was he watched the limousine's taillights disappear at the end of the street behind him.

Perhaps it should have been some kind of clue that he had been discovered when the town car suddenly left the main road only to take him on a low speed tour through a virtual maze of neighborhood streets. Still he had hoped that Treize might just be visiting someone in the area. That hope all but shattered when the driver in front of him suddenly made an illegal U-turn, hit the gas, dashed toward and then past him.

Milliardo had the presence of mind to turn his head away and crouch down in his seat as the two vehicles passed each other.

"Damn it!" he cursed again.

There was no use in turning around and try to catch up with the town car now. His plan to follow Treize undetected had failed and he was sure he wouldn't get a second chance either.

Still fuming at his own incompetence the young man made his way out of the unfamiliar neighborhood and back onto the main road. Once he recognized his surroundings he suddenly realized that he was only a few blocks south of the Rainbow Pond.

_Might as well end the day with a couple of drinks, _he decided._ It's not like I have anything better to do._

It was still a bit early, but the bright neon sign above the entrance was already lit by the time he reached the club. Driving across the nearly empty parking lot, Milliardo stopped in a space at the far left, as far as possible from where it could later be hit by other, potentially drunken patrons. The young man took off his baseball cap, pulled out the rubber band that was holding his long hair together and shook his head. He stuffed both into the glove department of the rental, and then paused in contemplation for a few moments.

His hands went to the leather band around his neck and he pulled out the amulet hidden beneath his t-shirt. After one more brief moment of hesitation he removed the charm, adding it to the other things in the glove compartment before slamming the door closed. From what he understood there would be other demons in the bar, out for nothing but a good time. The last thing he wanted was to hurt anyone who might just intentionally or unintentionally touch him.

A young man, about a head shorter than him, with mussed brown hair, dressed in loose fitting jeans, was leaving the bar when Milliardo entered. He nearly collided with the blonde, mumbled something that sounded like an apology and headed for a dark pick-up truck in the employee section of the lot. Milliardo's eyes followed him for a moment. He didn't remember seeing the young man before. Perhaps Duo had hired some new help, he mused as he pushed open the door.

###

"Drop me off, then take a drive around the block, just to be sure nobody else followed us," Treize ordered as the town car pulled up in front of Howard's bookstore.

Luther nodded in acknowledgement. He stopped, and without turning off the engine climbed out of the vehicle. The incubus checked his surroundings carefully, not only by sight but with all of his senses. There was a faint smell of blood in the air. Something had died here, but it had been a few hours since. Satisfied with his inspection he finally walked around the bullet- and fire-proof car, to open the door for his prince.

"Thank you." Treize have him a nod. "Be back to pick me up again in 15 minutes."

Howard appeared from inside his little office as the incubus prince entered the store.

"Good evening." The old man's voice sounded more tired than usual.

Ignoring the greeting Treize turned his head toward the glassless store window. "You are re-decorating?"

"Very amusing," Howard grumbled as he gestured toward the office. "Let's go and get this over with, before I change my mind."

The incubus simply shrugged as he followed the other man. They both knew why he was here, so there was no need to make small talk. He put his briefcase down on the desk, opened it and pulled out a couple of machine typed documents from one of the pockets.

"I had my lawyer type this up for us. One copy for you one for me," he explained as he pushed the papers toward Howard.

The old man's eyes flew over them for a few moments, then he gave a somewhat gloomy nod. "Sounds about right."

The unhappy expression didn't seem to escape the incubus prince.

"You are doing the right thing, you know."

"I really hope so," Howard replied as he picked up a pen to sign the sales contract. "For someone like you this place might not look like much but to me it's something I love and have worked hard for, for a long time."

"You are making it sound as though my wealth fell straight into my lap without me moving a finger." Treize sounded almost offended. "I had to work hard for it, too. And it took me; I dare say, a bit longer to do it."

Howard said nothing. He just leaned over the desk and put his name onto the documents, before pushing the paper toward the other man.

"I really hope this is a good idea."

"Relax. You have nothing to worry about from here on." The incubus signed the papers as well, closed the pen and put it down. "Should I leave some of my men here for the rest of the night?" He asked as he shoved his own copy back into the briefcase.

"I don't think so. I'll stay here. I have some things to take care of, still."

"Very well." Treize announced as he took the leather case. "I'll have the money transferred into your account first thing in the morning. Now YOU take good care of MY store."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 20**

Walking into his bedroom, Quatre cradled a dozen little black film canisters and water balloons, filled with a powdery substance, against his chest with both arms. The young man had to close the bathroom door behind him with his foot.

"You know…" Trowa was sprawled out on the wide bed thumbing through one of his books. "Some of the information in here is really inaccurate. But then that's not surprising, considering most of these books are written by mortals. They just don't have the experience nor the capability to fully understand the subjects they are writing about."

"You can do a better job?" Quatre gently set his load down on his desk and carefully started moving one item at the time into his backpack. "Maybe you should pick up writing as a hobby; pen down your own memoirs or something. But it will have to wait until tomorrow. We are leaving."

"Where are we going?" the demon closed the book and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"As far as Father is concerned, we are going to a study-group meeting that might last so long that I will be sleeping over at my friend's house."

"And where are we really going?" Trowa rose to his feet, watching the young man suspiciously.

"Back to Howard's bookstore of course. You didn't think I would leave him there all by himself for the night?"

"What is this?" Raising one of the water balloons to his nose the demon cringed at the pungent smell. "Garlic salt?"

"Garlic Powder," Quatre corrected. "100% pure, organic and raised with love. Damya would kill me if she found out I raided her spice cabinet."

Trowa frowned and gestured at the small black plastic containers. "BBQ sauce?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Holy water. I had Father Marcus from St Catherine's bless a whole gallon of it for me. I told him it was for…well; let's just say I wasn't completely truthful."

"It appears you're expecting trouble."

"I hope not, but I'd rather be prepared for the worst case scenario." Quatre stowed the last of his 'weapons' in his backpack and then gave the demon a determined look. "Are you ready?"

Trowa folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the desk. "What makes you think I would let you go into a dangerous situation like that?"

"What makes you think you could stop me?" Quatre shot back, his eyes glaring.

"I could call your father and tell him the study-group meeting was canceled."

"I could turn you into a mouse, something for Oscar to play with when he comes back." The blonde sighed. "Face it Trowa, I'll go; like it or not. You can either come with me to protect me, or you can stay here and wait for me to come back."

The demon gave a defeated grunt. "At least take this," he growled as he reached under the bed to pull out a small linen bag."

Curiously, Quatre checked the content and raised one eyebrow. "Ash wood stakes? Did you make them?"

"Why bother, they sell those online these days."

"Online? Wait, you need a credit card to buy something online. You have a credit card?"

Trowa nearly rolled his eyes. "I have been visiting this world for centuries before I met you. Of course I have a credit card."

"I will try to wrap my head around that later, I think. For now, we should be going. Umm…thanks for the…stakes," Quatre smirked "and let's hope they are as good as they say."

####

The pick-up truck he had rented wasn't exactly a luxury car, but it would come in handy to transport his bike and a few other things on his way back. The way things looked right now, Heero had a feeling that he might end up staying a bit longer in Orange County than he had planned. It wasn't a bad place to live really; a bit pricy and high class in some areas, but quiet and peaceful in most with plenty of parks and wildlife around. He could see himself renting a little apartment somewhere in the area, just to have a place to come back to every once in a while.

Of course all of that depended on what kind of information Howard was able to come up with for him.

_Howard!_ He suddenly realized that he never left an address or any other way to contact him with the old man. _I guess I should at least have given him my phone number." _Heero checked the time._ "I wonder if he is still at the store. If not I guess I could just leave a note._

The young man made a u-turn at the next corner, just before the onramp to the I-5 and headed back south toward the little bookstore.

####

"What?" Duo Maxwell asked as he refilled the whiskey glass with Wild Turkey. "Did I forget to trim my nose hair or something?"

"Huh?"

"You have been looking at me strangely ever since you got here. What's going on?"

"Uh…nothing really. Sorry!" Milliardo gave the bar owner a sheepish grin. He looked around making sure that he couldn't be overheard before leaning a little forward. "Duo, do you know wh…who I am?" He almost said 'what' but stopped himself at the last minute.

The braided young man gave him a strange look nevertheless. He pulled back the glass that he had just slid toward his customer.

"Are you drunk already? It's a bit early for that, isn't it?"

"I'm not drunk." The blonde assured him. "Just feeling a little…philosophical I guess."

Duo still eyed him a little warily but at least he didn't stop him when Milliardo reached for his drink. At the other side of the bar someone ordered two Margaritas and he turned away to fill the order. When he returned a few moments later Milliardo was sipping at his whiskey.

"Did something happen to your car again?"

"No…no that's just a rental. I didn't want to take the corvette where I was going."

"Alright."

Duo opened a new bottle of tequila to replace the one he had just emptied, then pulled out a wooden board and a knife to cut some more lemons and limes.

Milliardo turned around in his chair checking the room. As he let his eyes wander over the other patrons he tried to guess whether they were human or not…or what for that matter they actually were.

_Crazy, _he thought. _The idea would have never occurred to me before._

####

Treize Khushrenada was about to climb back into his Limo when a little silver sports car pulled up and parked a little offside next to Howard's old pick-up.

The incubus prince could feel Luther tense beside him. He reached out to touch the bodyguard's arm, putting on a smile as he recognized the young man exiting from the passenger seat with a large pizza box in his hand and a backpack over his shoulder.

"Mister Winner, what a surprise. Still working at such a late hour? That's what I call dedication."

The blonde gave him a glare of open hostility. Treize raised one eyebrow in surprise.

"Did I do or say something to offend you?" he inquired politely.

"Excuse me." The young man replied stiffly. "I'm in a bit of a hurry and I don't feel very sociable tonight. Triton!"

A tall, slender, creature put himself between the young Winner heir and the incubus. His expression neutral but every muscle in his body tense and ready to act in the blink of an eye should the need arise. There was no question that he would protect his young charge with his life.

Treize could feel the same powerful aura resonate from him he had felt from the little gray dog that attacked him at the Winner mansion. His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes following the two men as they disappeared inside the little bookstore.

"An Ancient One for a bodyguard?" Luther mumbled, clearly in awe. "Now that makes me feel very… inadequate."

"If you don't mind; you can angst about your shortcomings later," the incubus prince replied dryly, "**after** you dropped me off at home."

##

"I knew it was him." Quatre grumbled to himself as he stepped into the store. "Howard?! You know the front door isn't locked?"

The old man appeared at the door of his little office. "What are you two doing here?" he looked at Trowa. "I thought I told you to take him home."

"He did." Quatre smirked. "But now we are back. You didn't think we would leave you here by yourself, all night, did you? And…" He held up the cardboard box in his hand. "We brought pizza."

"You shouldn't have come."

"We ran into Treize Khushrenada on our way in. What was he doing here?" the blonde inquired innocently.

"That is, as I already told you, none of your business," Howard grumbled. Then his eyes went to the pizza box. "What kind of pizza?

"Hawaiian," Quatre replied with a victorious smile. "And pepperoni and cheese on the other half. Where do you want me to put it?"

"Put it on my desk." The older man gestured for them to follow him into his office. "There should be napkins and paper plates left from lunch somewhere."

The blond set down the box, put his backpack into the corner next to his chair where he could easily reach it and started looking for the plates and napkins.

"So, what are we going to do all night?" Trowa asked as he pulled up an extra chair from the other side of the room. "Aside from eating pizza that is?"

"I thought of that, too." Quatre announced with a grin as he fished a deck of cards from his backpack. "Anyone up for a game of cards?"

###

"Are you expecting anyone else?" Trowa suddenly asked while Howard was shuffling the cards for another game.

Quatre, who was sitting with his back to the door, turned his head. Howard had to crank his neck to look over the young man's shoulder.

A blue pick-up truck had stopped in front of the store. As they watched, a young man with dark hair climbed out of the cab. He took a few steps, slowed and stopped to study the broken storefront window in a mixture of curiosity and puzzlement.

"That's Heero," Quatre exclaimed, and then directed at Trowa. "I told you about him, remember?"

"I wonder what he is doing here at this hour?" The store owner mused as he rose to his feet and shuffled across the store to unlock the door.

"The werewolf." Quatre mouthed, and Trowa nodded. He had gathered as much.

"Heero, what brings you here?"

"You are still here, good." The young man stepped closer. "I realized you have no way of contacting me if you need to. So I figured I would give you my phone number before I leave."

"Come in!" Howard suggested, waving him through.

Following the old man back to his office Heero threw a look back at the glassless window.

"What happened?" He wanted to know.

"Long story." Howard made a dismissive gesture.

"Hey again." Quatre gave the young man a friendly smile. Trowa just nodded at him.

"Pizza?"

"No thanks; this will take but a minute. I'm about to head out of town," Heero declined.

"Really? Where are you going?" Quatre reached for another slice of the pie.

"Up north, Yosemite," the young man explained as he scribbled his phone number down on a piece of paper Howard had handed him.

"Now?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Traffic is going to be a nightmare," Trowa told him.

"He is right," Howard replied with a nod. "It will be bumper to bumper once you get closer to LA. You'd be better of waiting another hour or two. Trust me, you won't get there any faster if you leave now."

"Hmm…" Heero scratched his head. "I guess I'd rather wait here than in traffic." He eyed the rest of the pizza. "Is that Hawaiian?"

"Extra bacon," Quatre confirmed. "Help yourself. You play poker?"

"Occasionally." The young man replied as he grabbed a paper plate and filled it with a slice of pizza that was almost bigger than the plate itself.

"Great, we were getting tired of playing 3 13."

"Because you were cheating." Trowa pointed out.

"I wasn't cheating, you just don't know the rules, 'Mister I-have-lived-for-so-much-longer-than-you-and-don't even-know-how-to-play-cards'.

"Stop it before I put both of you in a time-out." Howard barked as he picked up the deck and started to deal. "See, that's why I usually don't do sleep-overs."

Quatre smirked. This evening promised to be a lot more fun than he had feared. Or so it seemed until both Trowa and Heero suddenly turned toward the door.

"Howard?!" the demon said seriously.

Another car had stopped across the street. A man, probably in his late 30s, with an olive complexion and dark hair climbed out from behind the wheel and slowly walked toward the store. He was dressed in a dark suit that was supposed to look like Armani but screamed 'knock off', and wore his hair pulled together in a short pony tail.

"Ortega! Damn it!" Howard exclaimed as he jumped to his feet faster than one would have expected from a man his age. "The three of you, stay in here, and don't even think about following me unless I tell you to," he ordered before he closed the office door behind him and went to intercept the visitor.

"Who the hell is Ortega?" Heero wanted to know, looking from Trowa to Quatre and back.

Both of them shook their heads.

"Beats me." Trowa said. "But Howard told Quatre about some guy who is trying to pressure him into selling the shop."

"Is that why the window is broken?"

"Shush. I'm can't hear a thing with you talking." Quatre had gotten up from his chair and was leaning against the closed door, his left ear pressed against the wood.

"Quatre!"

"What?" the blonde asked innocently. "He told us not to follow him; nobody mentioned anything about not listening."

###

"What do you want, Ortega?" Howard asked, an annoyed edge to his voice. "I told you already you are not welcome here."

"My, my such hostility." Quincy Ortega clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "And here I was just coming by to check on you, Old Man. I heard you had a bit of trouble lately."

He simply walked past Howard into the store, looking around with an almost bored expression. "Can't say I haven't warned you. This is a bad neighborhood."

"Yeah, and it's getting worse by the minute. Get out of here before I call the cops."

"And tell them what?" Ortega buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Are you really just stubborn or stupid? In any case, my …'employer' wants me to tell you that he is willing to sweeten the deal and pay you an extra 5000 if you sign the contract tonight."

"He can take his money and shove it. I would tell you to go to hell, but that's where you probably came from in the first place. By now you should have realized, I don't frighten easily. And now get your ass out of my store!"

"Don't frighten easily, huh?" Ortega snorted as he turned to leave. "We will see about that."

He walked out of the door, raised one of his hands in some sort of signal, and then all hell broke loose.

###

Both Trowa and Heero sensed them coming at the same moment, only the demon reacted an instant faster.

"Out of the way!"

Trowa stretched out his hand and without ever touching the large desk, slammed it against the wall, blocking the back door. He picked up two bookshelves in the same way, first one from the left wall, then another from the right, adding them to the pile and forming a solid barricade.

"Impressive!" Heero remarked, already pulling his t-shirt over his head. "I take it you are not human."

"That should keep them out for a while," the demon replied. "I sense at least a dozen of them."

"There are more in front." Heero nodded as he slipped off his shoes and dropped his jeans. He wasn't wearing anything beneath.

The air shimmered for just a moment then Heero the naked was gone, replaced by Heero the werewolf, a magnificent creature the size of a Great Dane, with brownish black fur and amber colored eyes.

"Stay here!" Trowa told Quatre who already had grabbed his backpack and was unloading his weaponry. "Keep an eye on the door and whatever you do, don't let them come in."

"Got it!"

The blonde had been startled for just one moment, but he had managed to suppress his fear quickly and replace that initial shock with determination. Last time, when he was attacked by those vampires he had felt helpless. This time he was prepared and ready to fight.

Trowa didn't bother opening the office door in the conventional way. He simply blew through the solid wood as though it was rice paper and stormed into the shop followed by the large wolf. Their unexpected appearance caught the attackers, a group of ferocious vampires, off guard. Heero pounced at a tall vamp with long, greasy hair, taking him down and pinning him to the floor with his sheer weight alone, just as the creature was about to reach for Howard. Two dark shadows flew over his head, vampires tossed aside like rag dolls by Trowa. They crashed through the already broken store window, taking out a little more wood and whatever glass was still remaining in the frame. One of them hit the sidewalk with a splat and the cracking of broken bones, the other landed on the blue pick-up, hard enough to dent the hood and set off the alarm.

Heero had no time to worry about his car now. The creature beneath him still had some fight left. The large wolf growled, pressed his fangs into the vampire's neck and tore out it's throat with one violent motion. He could taste sticky blood and feel the creature tremble as it died. Abandoning the still twitching body the wolf jumped up, toward his next target.

"Go, help out Quatre! There are more trying to get in from the back." Trowa yelled at the storeowner, as he was being rushed by three or four attackers.

Howard nodded. He moved toward the cash register and, seemingly out of nowhere, pulled out a large gauge shotgun. He didn't see the creature charging him as much as he felt it. The vamp was so close he could almost smell it's foul breath when he spun around. The old man pumped his weapon and pulled the trigger. The shotgun bellowed; it sounded almost like an explosion in the close quarters of the store, and the vampire suddenly had a hole in his chest the size of a baseball. The creature stumbled backward, staring down at itself in what could almost be described as astonishment, fell to the floor and died in convulsions.

"Hurt's, doesn't it?" Howard growled. "Home-made ammo, blessed silver. Anyone else want a taste?"

Meanwhile the group in the back was trying to break through Trowa's fortification. It sounded like the building was being hit by a freight train…repeatedly. The wood started to splinter. Suddenly, a grotesque looking hand with long claw-like fingers, and talons crusted with dirt and dried blood pushed its way through, followed by a victorious holler.

Quatre, who had built himself a little barricade out of a couple of filing cabinets and chairs, swallowed but didn't hesitate. He slightly cracked open the lid of one of the little film canisters then tossed the container toward the door. The loose lid popped off as it hit the wood, spilling it's liquid content all over the vampire's arm. Flesh started to smoke and blister as the holy water began to eat through it like acid. The creature hollered again; this time in pain and fury. The arm was jerked back but it was only a momentary reprieve. The door was beginning to crumble under the sheer power of the attack. More vampires tried to push their way in, only to be met by more of Quatre's holy water and garlic projectiles. Their roars and screams of anguish filled the night.

"Nice arsenal!" Howard ducked down next to the young man, reloading his weapon. "Do you always carry that stuff around with you?"

"Only when I expect company." the blonde smirked.

One of the vamps was almost half way through the door now. Howard's shotgun bellowed again. The load hit the creature in the head, taking out most of its face and a good portion of its throat as well. Dark blood squirted from the wound, covering the nearby walls, and the vampire started to crumble to ashes.

Quatre swallowed again, trying to fight down nausea along with fear. How many of them were there? It was only a matter of time now that they would make their way inside. He wanted to call out for Trowa, but he knew that the demon probably had his hands full on his own.

Suddenly they could hear fighting noises from the outside along with short bellows and growls.

###

It didn't take Heero long to realize that Trowa was quite capable of holding his own in the store. The demon, or whatever he was, fought with a speed and power that made the werewolf look like it was sleepwalking.

Heero leaped through the window and circled the building to find about a dozen or so vampires, some of them maimed or dying, trying to break through the back door. With a vicious growl the large wolf jumped forwards, powerful fangs closing in an instant. His victim tumbled to the floor, hamstrung and screaming. It brought up a pair of arms that somehow seemed out of shape with the body, trying to grab Heero as he leaped over it toward the next vampire. Within moments the werewolf was surrounded by bleeding and dying vamps. One of them grabbed him from behind, picking the large wolf up as though he weighed nothing and tossed him against the crumbling door. The impact knocked the air out of him. He whimpered in pain, dazed. Above him in the door was a large hole, through which he could see light and movement.

"Heero!" A voice that he recognized as belonging to the young store employee, called out from inside the office. "Stay down!"

He pressed himself to the ground even as the vampire drew closer, stretching out his long arms to pick him up again. Something small and round came flying through the hole in the door, hitting the creature in the chest and exploding on impact into a cloud of powdery dust. The vampire screamed, it's skin started to dissolve slowly, like a snail that had been sprinkled with salt.

Some of the garlic powder fell onto Heero, burning his eyes and his sensitive nose. He whimpered and sneezed as he jumped to his feet, then charged the screaming vamp and ripped out his throat, taking if mercifully out of it's misery. By now most of the creatures were down, and those who still had legs left to run with did so. Heero growled, but did not follow them.

###

Suddenly it turned quiet. Quatre, garlic bomb in hand, slowly lowered his arm.

"Is it over?" he asked, not even realizing that he was whispering.

Howard was still holding on to his shotgun.

"You can come out now." Trowa's voice came from the other room.

Slowly Quatre rose from behind his barricade and followed Howard into the store. He turned his head, taking in all the damage and destruction. There were books and magazines everywhere. Many of the shelves were tumbled over, some broken.

_I just finished sorting those books! _A little voice in the back of his mind screamed.

Most of the vampire corpses had already turned into what they should have been long ago, dust. Trowa was standing by the door. He was dirty and had blood stains on his clothes. Quatre wasn't sure if it was his own blood or someone else's.

"Are you alright?"

The tall demon nodded. "A little out of breath."

Across the street a car engine was starting, a pair of headlights flashed to life.

"That's Ortega!" Howard cried out. "Don't let him leave yet."

Trowa looked at the old man, then across the street, and dashed outside. He knew he probably wouldn't reach the Ford before it drove off, so he didn't even try. Instead he extended his hands, reached out with his power and lifted the whole car into the air like a toy before tossing it into the brick wall behind it. Metal cracked and screeched as the vehicle tumbled a few times before landing on its side.

Ortega must have been wearing his seatbelt, because he came crawling out of the wreck within a few seconds, shaken and dazed, but apparently unharmed. He tried to scramble to his feet but was knocked down again when a large, dark shadow slammed into him. The impact threw him back onto the ground where Heero kept him, looming over him like a bad omen. The werewolf gave an angry growl. Flames burned in those amber eyes, his muzzle covered in vampire blood.

Ortega's left hand twitched, and suddenly with a metallic click the switch blade of a stiletto knife snapped open. With an angry grunt the thug drove the blade into the wolf's shoulder.

Heero let out a yelp of pain that turned into a deep growl as his fangs closed around Ortega's wrist. Quincy Ortega screamed and dropped the weapon. The wolf released the man's arm to focus on his throat.

"Don't kill him!"

Howard's voice reached him at the last moment and he pulled away.

"In spite of all appearances, he is a human. " Howard spat as he stepped closer. "A vile and disgusting creature, yes; but still human. Listen, Ortega, it's over. You lost. I don't want to see you or any of your creatures ever again. And just for your information...I've already sold the store. You can tell that to your 'employer'. And if he has a problem with it, he should go and take that up with Treize Khushrenada."

Quatre, who was standing near the entrance to the store, exchanged a surprised look with Trowa.

_I guess, I was wrong after all. Treize is not the one behind Ortega and his vampires._

"Let him go, Heero," the old man demanded after one last disdainful look at the man on the ground.

The wolf hesitated, his eyes focused on the necklace around the thug's throat. There was something oddly familiar about that crucifix hanging from a silver chain. Finally he pulled away, growling as Ortega scrambled to his feet and took off.

Trowa's eyes followed the man until he disappeared into the darkness. Then he turned to Howard.

"You and Quatre should go inside while Heero and I take a look around the block... just to make sure there isn't anything else lurking in the shadows."

Howard nodded and even Quatre didn't have the energy to argue. Now that the adrenalin rush was tapering off he suddenly felt tired… very tired. He led the way into the store, with the old man following right behind.

"Did you really sell your store?"

"Don't worry, you still have a job. It's not like I'm going to close down or anything."

"But I don't get it. Why...?

A noise from the other side of the store alarmed the young man. Something was moving in the back. One of the vamps had been hiding in the shadows. Quatre jerked his head around just in time to see the creature push against one of the large bookshelves, tumbling it over with little effort. With an angry cry the blonde jumped out of the way before the heavy wooden piece could crack his skull open like a coconut.

"I just had finished sorting those books!" he screamed as he hurled his last remaining garlic bomb at the vampire, hitting the creature square in the chest.

The vampire wasn't stopped that easily. It let out a shriek and stumbled forward reaching for him. Quatre whipped out one of the wooden stakes he had stored in his back pocket and drove the pointed end of it into the creature's chest, slightly off center and a few inches above the breast bone. The vampire's mouth opened in a soundless scream as it crumbled to the ground, slowly turning to dust.

"Are you okay, kid?" Howard lightly touched the young man's shoulder.

"I killed it!" Quatre's hands were trembling when he dropped the stake to the floor. "I killed it, Howard."

"It wasn't alive anymore to begin with." the old man's voice was almost soft. "It lost or gave up its life a long time ago."

The silver gray wolf moved past them and disappeared into the backroom. Moments later Trowa was back as well. One look into Quatre's face told him that something wasn't right.

"What happened?"

"One of them was hiding in the back of the store." Howard explained. "Quatre took him out with a stake through the heart."

"See, who says I need you to protect me? I can take care of myself." The blonde managed a smirk, but the tremors in his voice betrayed his bravado. "I think I need some water."

Heero was tying his shoes when they walked into the office. Quatre picked up a paper cup and filled it with water from a dispenser that amazingly had survived the battle without springing a leak. He emptied the cup twice and his stomach began to settle. As his eyes fell to the floor he noticed a trail of fresh, dark, reddish brown spots. Someone was bleeding. Following the trail with his eyes it led him directly to where Heero was standing.

"You are hurt."

"Just a scratch." The young man tried to shrug, but flinched at the pain radiating from his shoulder. "Well maybe not a scratch but it will heal in a day or two. "

"You shouldn't drive like that. Let us take you home," Trowa suggested. "I don't think your car is in any condition to be driven anyway. I think I unloaded a couple of those vamps on its roof. Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it. It's just a rental. Good think I got the extra insurance, though. As far as I'm concerned it had been stolen this afternoon anyway."

"The cops are going to be here any minute," Howard pointed out. "Unless you feel like spending a few hours explaining to them what happened here you guys should probably be leaving now."

"What are you going to tell them happened?"

The old man just shrugged. "How would I know? I just got here myself."

"Let me just get my things very quickly."

As Heero grabbed his bag from the truck, Howard handed his shotgun off to Quatre. "Do me a favor and hold on to that for me. I don't want them to find it here right now."

"Sure thing. See you tomorrow."

"Don't be late, kid. There is a lot of cleaning up to do."

Quatre snorted in a mixture of amusement and irritation. "Thanks."

###

By the time 9 o clock rolled around Milliardo was on his fourth wild turkey, and bored. By now he was pretty sure he had figured out every other customer in the bar. Take the brunette in that dark spandex shirt and leather pants at the table in the corner; he just had to be from some kind of otherworldly realm. There was no way any human would even dream of wearing an outfit like that. And the tall guy talking to the bouncer was just too darn gorgeous to be a mere mortal.

Duo was standing just right of the blonde, mixing a couple of cocktails when he suddenly raised his head. Milliardo, sitting with his back to the door, couldn't see what he was looking at.

"A werewolf, an Ancient One and a demi god walk into a bar."

Milliardo, frowning slightly, waited for a few moments before pointing out: "Hey, I think your joke is missing the punch line."

"What?" Duo looked at him. "What joke?"

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 21  
><strong>

"You sure you're going to be alright?" Quatre asked as he and Trowa said their good-byes to Heero at a bar called 'Rainbow Pond'.

There was something about the atmosphere of the place that had prompted him to walk their new friend all the way to the door. The blonde could feel the auras of at least a dozen different demons and other otherworldly creatures, including the tall man covering the entrance. Quatre would be willing to swear that he was a vampire. But to his surprise he sensed no aggression or hostility from any of the creatures. They were mingling…with humans… for no other reason than to have a good time, it appeared. After what had happened less than an hour earlier, it was a concept that seemed utterly strange to him. But what was even stranger was the fact that Trowa hadn't tried stopping him from getting close to this place.

The bouncer seemed to know Heero, nodded at him and let them through, but not before giving his companions some guarded looks.

"I'll be fine," Heero assured them. "Thanks for the ride. Can I get you a drink or anything?"

Quatre opened his mouth, happy to accept the invitation, but the demon was faster. "Maybe some other time. I've got to get him home and tucked in. It's past his bedtime."

The blonde snorted but didn't argue. "See you around, Heero. And thanks again for helping out."

"You know," he told Trowa on their way back to the car. "I want to come back here; this place…interests me."

"Yeah," the demon agreed calmly, "in a couple of years, when you are actually old enough to drink."

"Hey, I'm old enough to drink… in some countries, like Germany and Austria for example."

"Good. Next time we are visiting the Alps, I will buy you a beer."

"You know," Quatre grinned at Trowa. "You are becoming a smart-ass. Some may say you have been keeping bad company."

####

"…and in breaking news, the East Orange County police is looking for a group of vandals who earlier this evening stole a pick-up truck. After taking it for a joyride The vandals broke into and destroyed a small, independent bookstore in Santa Ana. According to a police spokesperson the vandalism might have been an act of revenge after the store owner called the police following a similar incident the night before. So far there are no leads or descriptions…."

Sebastian pressed the power button on the TV remote and tossed the device onto the coffee table.

"I'm going out." he announced as he rose to his feet. "You want to come?" Nobody could accuse him of not at least trying to be civil with his…'landlord'.

"I'm busy." Nichols replied stiffly. He had been working on his laptop at the kitchen table ever since they got home.

"With what; looking up porn?"

He shot the younger incubus a glare over his shoulder. "Looking up real estate. This place isn't big enough for the two of us."

"I couldn't agree more. That's why I am planning to move out as soon…"

"Think again. The prince wants you to stay with me for the time being."

"You gotta be kidding me," Sebastian grunted unhappily. "I think I'm finally beginning to see why he took me in. He enjoys torturing me to take revenge on my family."

"Complain to **him** if you must."

"Yeah right." Sebastian snorted. "And count my blessings if he only rips off one of my arms. You know he barked at me today for just one little scheduling mistake. That's not the Treize I remember."

"He isn't exactly himself right now. He has a lot on his plate at the moment, and he is still in pain. He hasn't fed either. Besides, you **did** put down a customer for a bikini wax that wasn't requested."

"So?"

"A MALE customer…"

Sebastian had a reply on the tip of his tongue, but the ringing of Nichol's phone cut him off. So instead he just gave a brief wave and reached for his leather jacket. "I'll be taking my leave."

Ignoring him, the older incubus picked up the call.

"Nichols?! It's Leigh. I've found the van… and the people driving it. I had myself a little conversation with one of them and he told me where they are hanging out."

Nichols nearly cringed. He could imagine how that 'little conversation' played out. Leigh could be very imaginative when it came to inflicting pain. He almost felt sorry for the other guy…almost. "Did you talk to the Prince?"

"I did." Leigh confirmed. "He told me to call you. We meet in 30 minutes at **his** place. Dress for action."

"Got it." Nichols confirmed, and with that the phone call unceremoniously ended as the incubus at the other end hung up.

Nichols turned his head, catching a glimpse of Sebastian who was just slipping out the door.

"Leave is canceled," he declared. "We've got a job to do."

###

"What happened to you?" Duo, taking advantage of a passing break in business, had walked into the backroom of the bar just as Heero was pulling a clean t-shirt over his head.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Duo's eye narrowed in irritation. "You leave here telling me you are going out of town for a few days. Two hours later you are back, reeking of blood that's not only yours. To top it off you walk into the bar with two…guys in no better condition than you. And all you have to say is 'nothing'?"

"Sorry. I'll leave if you want me to. But if you must know, I got into a fight with some vampires. It wasn't my fault. They were attacking someone I knew, someone who is helping me out. I returned the favor by helping him. I would do the same if you were in trouble. As for those two… They dropped me off because my car got damaged. They are good people, Duo, friends."

The braided young man huffed, but there was little amusement in his voice. "The likes of you and I don't just make friends with…well, never mind. You are a mess." He pulled the key to his apartment from his pocket and pitched it at Heero who caught it with ease. "Go home, get cleaned up. I'll call you a cab."

###

They moved with the stealth and deadly efficiency of a special ops team… a special ops team with more than a century of experience under their belts. Six figures dressed all in black melted into the darkness around them, as they crouched in the shadows of an old warehouse. At one point in its history the warehouse must have been filled with oranges. The aromatic citrus smell had permeated the wood and was still lingering, detectable for someone with a sensitive nose.

Ahead of the group lay another warehouse. Light and music spilled through it's open doors. There was no need for the inhabitants to be particularly careful. This storage site, like many others in the area, had been abandoned long ago.

Inside the building figures were moving, unaware that they were being watched. The lights, of course proved a bit of an obstacle for the group in the shadows.

"They will see us before we get close enough to attack," someone pointed out in a whisper.

"Why even bother? Why don't we just blow the whole place up and go home?" Leigh's baritone came from the other side.

Treize Khushrenada turned his head. "They probably have mortals in there with them; prey."

That was all he had to say. Everyone knew and understood his rule; kill if necessary but avoid any casualties that **can** be avoided, especially amongst mortals. It was a rule they all had agreed to live by.

"How many are there?" The prince whispered.

Luther opened and closed both of his hands twice, then showed three more fingers.

Twenty three; that was less than four for each of them. They had fought worse odds before…far worse.

"We will have to be fast, or find a different way in."

Treize stretched his body when something small and dark dashed across the floor and rammed into his legs. The impact nearly threw the incubus off balance. With a frown he looked down to see a furry, red and tan creature rubbing it's shoulder against him in an almost playful manner. One eyebrow raised in surprise Treize picked the cat up by the skin on the back of his neck. The tabby was wearing a familiar leather collar imbedded with gemstones.

"What the hell are **you** doing here?" the incubus whispered as he pulled the large tomcat into his arm.

With a quiet mewl the tabby struggled and wiggled itself free. He jumped to the floor gracefully and dashed off into the darkness. Suddenly, just within sight, Oscar stopped and looked back at Treize as though he was asking him to follow. The incubus prince raised one hand, telling his men to stay as he slowly and quietly went after the cat. He followed Oscar through a dark alley around two buildings until they reached a small door in the rear of one of the warehouses.

The door was closed, but from beneath it a faint light was visible.

A triumphant smile crossed the incubus' face as he leaned down to pet the cat that was once again brushing around his legs.

"Smart kitty! Remind me to buy you a big box of cat treats, " he whispered, pulling the animal back into his arms as he sneaked back to where his men were waiting.

"There is a back door. Unguarded. Nichols, Luther, you are with me!. Leigh, Diego take the front when you hear us go in."

Four heads bobbed up and down in unison.

"What about me?" Sebastian wanted to know. He was more than just a little thrilled … and flattered to have been taken along on this 'mission'. This was his chance to prove to the prince and the others that he was more than just Christian von Ranzow's little brother.

"Stay here! And hold on to this for me, will you?" Treize handed the tabby off to the young incubus before gesturing for his men to follow him.

Sebastian's face fell as he watched them disappear into the darkness. He glowered at the cat in his arm, fully convinced now that Treize really hated him. The animal looked back at him, a displeased growl grumbling in his chest.

"Yeah," Sebastian snorted. "The feeling is mutual."

##

Treize held up three fingers of his left hand, slowly bending one after the other. At the count of zero, Luther threw himself against the back entrance with the force of a battering ram, taking the wooden door off its hinges with a deafening thud.

Nichols and Treize jumped past the big incubus at the same moment. The demon blade flickering to life just as Nichols unsheathed his own sword. Two dozen vampires, startled and confused for a second, scrambled to their feet and turned toward the open front door. But the moment they realized that way of escape was blocked as well they went on the offensive.

A incubus, or white vampire as they were sometimes known as, had a clear disadvantage when going toe to toe against black vamps. They just didn't have the same physical power as their bloodsucking 'cousins'. Blood provided, after all, a lot more energy than any other life-force. But that didn't mean incubi were any less deadly. What they lacked in strength they more than made up for in speed and intelligence. Whites were known to be far better organized than black vampires and they didn't share many of the black's weaknesses. Not to mention the men in Treize's group, aside from Sebastian, had survived nearly 200 years of battles, ambushes and assassination attempts. They fell over the blacks like a scourge.

Treize looked around. It took him all of two seconds to access the situation. He had been right in his assumption that the coven lived here and kept prey near them. There were two cages, the size of midsize dog kennels filled with mortals. He could see a few more of them on the floor near the spot where the blacks had been huddling. Some of the vampires looked like they had been in a fight recently.

_They must have been feeding, replenishing their powers, when we surprised them. If we are lucky they haven't been able to absorb the energy yet._

"Go for their bellies!" he called out even as he slashed his own weapon across the front of the closest vampire trying to rush him.

The glowing blade split the creature open like a coconut. Deep red blood splattered over the floor as the vampire went down with an anguished cry. Treize didn't wait for him to recover but aimed his sword downward, swung it and cut off the vampire's head in one swift motion.

Beside him Luther threw aside an attacker but was instantly rushed by another who slashed at him with dagger-like claws trying to eviscerate him. The big incubus solved the problem by swinging his razor-sharp butterfly swords, cutting off the black vampires hands so that he could get close enough to thrust one of the short, curved weapons into his opponent's chest.

Nichols jumped over a stack of old wooden crates, evaded a knife that was thrown at him and then dodged one of the mortals on the ground. He followed one of the blacks into the back of the warehouse near to where the caged prey was kept. For a fleeing moment his eyes caught the pitiful figures behind the bars. They all looked like they were under some kind of drug, barely conscious, with clouded eyes, drooling or babbling incoherently to themselves; a pathetic and sickening sight.

###

"What the hell are you anyway?" Sebastian growled, still glaring at the cat in his arm. From inside the warehouse he could hear the sounds of battle mixed with cries of pain and fury. "I could be inside there right now, fighting. But no, thanks to you I'm merely pet-sitting. Do I have 'looser' written across my forehead or something?"

Oscar made a little sound somewhere between a meow and a growl.

"I hope that wasn't supposed to be a yes." _Great, I am having a conversation with a ball of fur. _"You are heavy you know that? Ever considered switching to low calorie food?"

The growl turned into a vicious snarl as the red tabby suddenly struggled to free itself from Sebastian's hold.

"Okay, okay, I was just kidding, no offence."

Before the incubus knew what was happening the large cat jumped from his arms over his shoulder at something behind him.

A shriek of rage and anguish hollered through the night. Sebastian spun on his heels to face a large vampire less than five feet away.

"Holy Shit!"

Oscar was hanging on the black's neck, biting and scratching. It looked like something he remembered seeing on the Wild Life channel. Only there the 'cat' had been a 400lb lion and its prey a zebra that wasn't at least 10 times its size.

The vampire howled again, ripped the animal off along with several inches of skin and tossed it aside.

_I never even sensed him. _Sebastian swallowed but didn't hesitate. There was no time to reach for his twin daggers, so he attacked bare handed, dashing toward the creature with inhuman speed. For a mortal's eyes his movements would have been little more than a blur and even the black vampire wasn't fast enough to react. His head snapped backward with such force as he was grabbed, that the whiplash broke his neck with a sickening snap. Just for good measure Sebastian pulled one of his knives and plunged it into the vampire's chest. He had learned to kill from the best, his father and older brothers.

The incubus turned his head looking for Oscar. The tabby seemed unhurt. He had landed on his feet as one would expect from a cat and was running toward the lit up warehouse.

"Stupid cat!" Sebastian cursed as he dashed after the animal.

###

Most of the vampires weren't armed when the attack came. They fought back with pure strength and any weapon they could find. Treize was fighting off one of the blacks when a second attacked from his right, wielding a four foot long piece of pipe that looked like it was made of steel. Sensing the movement beside him more than he could see it, the prince spun around. His weapon held out straight he let the attacker impale himself on the sword before twisting the blade in the wound and pulling it upward. The body went limp but the pipe still came down on his arm, sending a blinding flash of pain through his body. The wound he had sustained in his fight with the guardian hadn't completely healed yet. He could feel warm blood soaking the sleeve of his shirt. Grinding his teeth against the pain he moved the demon blade to his other hand and continued the fight.

Nichols had taken down three blacks in the back of the warehouse that were trying to hide themselves between stacks of boxes and old packing material. While he was fighting he was also trying to keep an eye on the incubus prince, but paid dearly for that distraction when he was suddenly grabbed from behind. With a vicious, and triumphant snarl a vampire, build like Luther or Leigh and easily 50 pounds heavier than him, took him by the neck trying to crush his throat. The incubus struggled. He couldn't breathe and he felt himself being lifted off the ground. He dropped his sword and tried to get his fingers between those bruising hands and his neck, but the black's strength was just too great. His vision slowly began to fade and his lungs ached from the lack of oxygen.

"Nichols, freeze!" Sebastian's voice yelled, and so he did.

Somewhere out of the darkness something flew towards him. Sebastian's dagger he realized at the last moment. The knife swooshed over his head close enough that he could feel it cut off some of his hair, and hit the large vampire directly between the eyes. The creature died without a sound, probably never even realizing what had hit him.

Nichols crumbled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, gasping, trying to pump air into his aching lungs. Sebastian appeared from somewhere to his left and stopped next to him. The brunette incubus pushed himself to his knees.

"Are you crazy?" he croaked. "You could have missed."

"I don't miss." The younger incubus replied self-confident as he held out his hand to help Nichols to his feet. "You are welcome too. Now you owe me."

###

A few minutes later the fight was over. Most of the black vampires lay dead or dying. Two or three of the group slipped out of the warehouse and tried to run.

"Don't let anyone get away!" Treize barked. He looked around briefly and then turned his head toward Leigh. "Take care of the rest," he ordered before heading after Luther and Diego who were chasing after the escapees.

Leigh was bleeding from a cut under his eye and a few deep scratches on his chest where a set of sharp claws had caught him. He tucked his daggers into his belt as he walked toward on of the cages in the back of the warehouse. It was secured with a chain and an old- fashioned lock.

The incubus gave an annoyed huff. There was no time to look for a key. He solved the problem by grabbing the chain and pulling it apart. The veins on his arms popped out and his jaw clenched as he strained for a moment, then the chains steel links started to deform under the pressure, slowly widening until they finally broke with a pop and a clank.

Meanwhile Nichols was checking out the teens on the ground, the ones the vamps had been feeding on when they burst in. One of them, a young girl in black clothes and traces of dark make-up on her lips and eyelids, was beyond help. She might have looked pretty at one point. Now she was just…dead.

The incubus grabbed the young man next to her. He was stirring and trying to struggle, his eyes wide and unseeing. Nichols slapped him in the face to quiet him down.

"Sebastian, give me a hand here. We need to get them out."

The younger incubus grunted a reply. He lifted one of the girls in the cage Leigh had opened, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. Then grabbed a second person, a scrawny little guy with short-cropped hair, with his free hand and tucked him under his arm as though he was weighing nothing. One of the mortals, a woman with red hair, stirred slightly. Sebastian looked at her and his eyes widened for just one moment as he recognized her. She looked different yes, her hair was dirty and uncombed. Her make-up was all but gone, her eyes sunken in, but he was sure she was one of the hookers Nichols had brought home just a few nights ago. She stirred again, her pupils focusing on him for a moment. Was that a trace of recognition on those green eyes?

_No, _he told himself, _she is just as drugged up as the others and too far gone to even recognize her own mother right now._

"We don't have all night." Nichols urged.

Sebastian tore his eyes away from the woman, turned and followed him outside. They unloaded their burden around the corner near where they had left their car, dumping them unceremoniously onto the sidewalk before heading back for the rest. By now Leigh had opened the second cage as well and was working on something beneath the dark van in the back of the warehouse.

By the time they got back to the car Luther, Diego and Treize were returning as well.

"Is that all of them?" the prince asked with a nod at the moaning and babbling figures on the floor.

"All that were still alive," Nichols confirmed. His eyes went to the slowly spreading stain on Treize's right arm that was coloring the black fabric of his shirt even darker. "Are you alright, my Prince?"

"It's nothing." The tawny-haired incubus sounded irritated.

"You are bleeding. I wish you would let me call Lady Une. That wound isn't healing."

"I said; it's nothing," the prince snapped.

Nichols' reply was swallowed by a sudden explosion. The sky lit up in brilliant colors as the old warehouse erupted into a big fireball. Seconds later, Leigh came running towards them. In one hand he was holding Oscar by the back of his neck.

"Weren't you supposed to watch that thing?" he barked at Sebastian and tossed him the cat as though it was a stuffed animal.

Sebastian's brows furrowed as he opened his mouth. But before the first word ever left his lips Nichols jumped in.

"Give him a break, will you? He was a little busy, you know?"

"Let's get out of here," Treize commanded with a nod toward the black town car across the street.

Luther took the wheel, the prince the passenger seat and the rest of them, cat included, piled into the back of the limousine without another word. Moments later they were gone; leaving behind nothing but the burning warehouse and the drugged up and disoriented mortals.

###

The noise of police sirens and fire engines woke Otto from deep sleep. Having lived in New York on 9/11 those sounds still sent a shiver down his back, even more than a decade later. He checked his watch; it was nearly 2 am, sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. By the time his cell phone rang he was nearly dressed. It was the dispatcher from the police department's call center, just as expected.

"Give me the details!" The Lieutenant put the phone on speaker and set it down while he filled water into the coffee machine and reached for the tin of ground coffee.

The woman from the call center told him about an explosion near the old airbase in Tustin and informed him that Detective Parker was on his way to pick him up.

The call ended and Otto looked down at the tin and the measuring spoon in his hands. He gave a little shrug and added another spoonful of ground coffee into the machine…and then another. Something told him he was going to need the extra caffeine this morning.

By the time Parker's unmarked car pulled up outside his apartment building the Lieutenant was already waiting on the sidewalk.

"What's going on?" he asked as he slipped into the passenger seat and strapped himself in with the seatbelt.

Trend Parker, one of the detectives working with him on the missing persons taskforce, shrugged. "You tell me, Lieutenant. Must be the weather or something. They say that damn Santa Ana wind will make people crazy. A few hours ago some stupid teens bashed up a bookstore over at 17th street and now this."

"What exactly is "this'?" Otto asked. "Dispatch only told me something about an explosion, but not what it has to do with us."

"Meth lab probably; that stuff is highly flammable. The reason they called us is that they found some of our people at the scene."

"Our People?" the lieutenant echoed.

"Our 'missing' people." Parker clarified. "Although they can't be considered missing now that they have been found, can they?"

The streets were nearly empty at this time of night. The detective didn't even bother turning on the sirens as they headed toward the large hangers that at one point were built to house air-ships or blimps. Otto recalled reading somewhere that each of them was big enough to fit the statue of Liberty if it was strapped onto a flatbed truck. Somewhere in the distance behind those hangers, just outside the parameters of the old airbase, he could see smoke rise into the air. It was forming clouds that dissipated into the night sky. The smoke was nearly white, a sign that the firefighters were putting a lot of water onto the flames.

By the time they reached the old storage yard the fire was nearly extinguished. Parker stopped the car behind a couple of ambulances, making sure that it wouldn't be in anyone's way.

Three paramedics were working on a number of figures, huddling on the sidewalk, covered with heat blankets. Otto pulled his ID from his pocket and held it up for one of the men to see.

"Lieutenant Fisher," he introduced himself. "What have we got here?"

"Not quite sure yet." the paramedic replied as he set up an IV line for one of his patients. "Drug lab maybe. They…" he thrust his chin forward in a gesture including all of the people on the ground. "…are definitely on something."

"Looks like they got lucky and made it out before the fire." Parker observed as he looked around. He didn't see any burn injuries or signs of smoke or suds.

"Any identifications?"

"Nothing."

The paramedic rose to his feet and walked to one of the ambulances. Otto followed him. "Can we talk to them?"

"You are welcome to try, Lieutenant." the medical worker shrugged. "I wouldn't set my expectations too high, though. They are all, up to their eyeballs, drugged up on the devil knows what. So far we haven't gotten anything out of them except for some meaningless mumblings about monsters and stuff. We are just about ready to take them away now."

"Where to?" Otto asked.

"UCI Medical Center."

The Lieutenant nodded in acknowledgement. "We will send an officer over later to take fingerprints. And we will talk to them once they are sobered up a little."

A large fireman in full gear interrupted the conversation.

"Lieutenant Fisher?" he asked.

"Yes, that's me."

"Commander Hernandez," the tall man introduced himself. "I'm the one who called your department when we got here. There is something I want you to see."

"Lead the way." Otto nodded.

He and Parker followed the fire fighter to the burned out remains of the warehouse where a few other firemen were still putting out several hot spots. There was little more left of the building than a few charred and still smoldering support beams. All of these old warehouses had been built from wood, back in the late 19th century.

"Watch your step." Hernandez led them to the back of the building toward the burned out skeleton of a large van.

"You think that's our car?" Otto threw a look at his partner.

The fireman bent down to pick something from the rubble, something that turned out to be a bent and somewhat discolored license plate.

"Yep, definitely our car," Parker confirmed with a look at the deformed metal sheet.

He was, of course, referring to the car used in the attempted kidnapping of those two young women a couple days earlier. Thanks to a quick-thinking and civil-minded business owner, the police had received printouts from a security camera that had caught the crime on tape. They were now able to identify the van positively by make, model and license plate number.

Otto looked at the fireman. "How did you know about those people we are looking for anyway, Commander?

"My father has been a police officer for more than 30 years. He is now a desk clerk."

"Josè Hernandez, of course. Sorry I didn't make the connection."

"In any case, he had given me some names and showed me some pictures, knowing that the guys and I often help out at the local soup kitchen and homeless shelter. I recognized one of the kids when we got here. And then there is this one…" Hernandez waved for them to follow. He only walked a few yards to the left, stopped in front of a large piece of metal roof sheeting and picked it up at one corner. As he lifted the pane a foot or so of the ground they could see the body it had been covering.

Part of the legs and one arm had been ripped off by the explosion but most of her torso, protected by the metal, had been left intact and untouched by the flames. She was young, seventeen, eighteen maybe, and dressed in black.

Otto swallowed. In spite of the mutilations he recognized her from one of the missing persons reports; Sarah something. He didn't remember her full name. Beside him Parker coughed. The lieutenant turned his head. His partner looked a little green around the gills. Otto felt a pang of sympathy.

"You want to wait outside?"

The younger man shook his head. "I'm fine," he assured him, his voice a little shaky. "But man, she was only a kid."

"I know it isn't much of a consolation, but she was dead before the explosion and the fire," the fireman said.

"How can you tell?"

"There is barely any blood around those wounds. Dead bodies don't bleed," Hernandez pointed out matter-of-factly.

"This doesn't look like a meth lab to me." The Lieutenant looked around.

Hernandez shook his head. "We have found nothing to indicate that any kind of drugs were made or stored here. Still, those kids were high on something, I tell you. And what do you think about those?" He gestured to something that looked like deformed metal structures, cages of some kind or kennels.

"Dog fighting?"Otto suggested.

"We found no dogs."

The lieutenant frowned. _What the hell, was going on in here?_

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 22**

Wiping his charcoal stained hands on his jeans, Milliardo looked down at the small 8x11 sketch on his desk. Adding light and shadows gave it drawing more depth, making the woman in the picture look almost real. She was dressed in the same dark, ankle-length skirt and buttoned-down white blouse she had worn in his dream… his second dream of her. He had given her hair some highlights and her eyes that determined look he remembered from the dream.

She was pretty, he decided. No, she was beautiful…attractive in a very natural and wholesome way, without the help of make-up or other beauty enhancements. And she really looked a lot like Noin. _Funny, _ he thought. _I've never thought of Noin as being pretty or attractive. I've never seen her as a woman, not in a sexual way at least. She has never been anything but my best buddy. Well, she would probably knock out my teeth if I called her pretty into her face anyway. _He grinned.

But what was up with those dreams? Did they have anything to do with the brief conversation he had with Noin about her ancestor? It made absolutely no sense. _Of course, I bet a shrink might have a whole different idea about that. _

His stomach gave a little growl, reminding him that he skipped breakfast this morning in order to start working on this sketch whilst the memory of the dream was still fresh in his mind.

This time the dream had lasted a little longer. He had watched her in a park on a sunny afternoon and she had asked him to take her someplace. But he refused, telling her it was a bad idea and he could not allow her to put herself in harm's way. She had replied that she may be a woman, but she was not some fragile creature that needed to be kept under glass and protected. She knew how to take care of herself.

_Yes, _Milliardo thought as he cleaned up his charcoal sticks. _She is definitely a lot like Noin. _

His stomach protested again and the young man tore himself away from the drawing, and rose to his feet. The moment he walked out of his studio Milliardo could hear Wufei in the living room. His roommate was on his phone, talking to someone, in Chinese.

The Elders, Milliardo realized in an instant. He stepped through the door, crossing the room in a few long strides, and before Wufei knew what was happening, he took the cell phone from his hand.

"Sorry for butting in. I don't mean to appear rude…or ungrateful for that matter, but I think we need to have a few words. I really don't know you guys, but quite frankly, you don't know me either. The only one who really does is Wufei here. Just so you know, he didn't do anything wrong, he was just trying to protect me in the only way he could think of. I accept and respect him because I trust him, that's more than I can say from the rest of you guys. So, don't even think about trying to replace him or anything. I won't play along. It's either Wufei or no one. Have a nice day."

With a grim nod the blonde handed the phone back to Wufei who shot him a glare, spoke a few more sentences in Chinese and then ended with 'zài lián xì'.

"Feeling better now?" he asked as he turned off the phone and put it down on the table.

Milliardo gave a little grin. "Do you think they got the message?"

"I'm not sure," the young, Chinese man replied dryly. "You were talking to my grandmother."

"What?"

"My grandmother," Wufei repeated. "I was calling because it is her 86th birthday."

"Now I feel like a complete idiot."

"Don't worry about it. She doesn't speak a word of English. I told her you were just wishing her good health and prosperity in the American way. She thinks you sound rather excitable, but like a very nice person."

Milliardo snorted, still a bit embarrassed. "Thank you."

"As for the Elders, I spoke to them earlier and told them what you had said. They agreed that it would be best for me to remain in my current position. However, they still want to talk to me in person, or better the leader of the Elders wants to. I'll probably leave during the long Labor-day weekend, next week."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Only as long as necessary. Why?"

"I'm not worried or anything." Milliardo shrugged nonchalantly. "Just trying to figure out how many wild parties I can fit in during your absence."

"Like my presence here ever prevented you from throwing any of those," Wufei snorted playfully.

###

"Thanks for coming in so promptly, Mister Carter. Please have a seat."

Lieutenant Fisher gestured at one of the visitor's chairs in his office. 'Mister' Mike Carter, a young man of barely eighteen, looked around the room a little nervously as he settled down. Behind him stood his lawyer, a man of average height, and average build, with an average face that one would forget the moment he walked out of sight. He cleared his throat.

"We would like to make sure that it is noted that my client came of his own free will…"

"Noted… and appreciated." Otto interrupted the man. He saw the necessity of lawyers but didn't exactly agree with all of their business practices. "We just have a few questions regarding a friend of Mister Carter's, Kyle Saunders. As you probably know Kyle went missing a few nights ago."

"Just for the records", the lawyer spoke again. "My client and Kyle Saunders are not actually friends; just casual acquaintances who know each other from school."

"From what I understand," the lieutenant shot back. "They know one another well enough for Mister Carter here to do Mister Saunders' homework on occasion."

"Do our police now investigate petty schoolyard 'crimes'?" the attorney asked. "One would think they have better things to do?"

"We are investigating missing persons' cases." Otto tried hard to keep his voice neutral. "From what I understand, Mister Saunders was planning on meeting with Mister Carter the night he disappeared."

"Mike?" The lawyer looked down at the young man. Apparently it was news to him.

"Not with me," Mike shook his head. He was a skinny guy with glasses and the pale completion of someone who spends most of his time indoors.

"He was telling people he was going to a LARP meeting. You do run a local vampire LARP club, do you not, Mister Carter? And Kyle frequently attends your meetings, does he not?"

The young looked almost embarrassed as he nodded. "It's true, but that night we weren't…playing. Kyle went missing on Saturday. That was my parent's anniversary. They made me go out to dinner with them; family night." He rolled his eyes. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to have a 5 course dinner in a fancy restaurant."

"Could the group have met without you?" the Lieutenant was scribbling things down in his notebook.

"I don't think so. You see, we are meeting at…" he threw a look at his lawyer. "…at my folk's beach house on Balboa. It stays free most of the year."

"That's in Newport, isn't it; not far from Fashion Island?" Otto noted. _Where Kyle's car had been found. _"There is no spare key someone else could have used to have a meeting in your absence?"

Mike shook his head. "Sarah used to have one, but I asked her to give it back when she left."

"Sarah Altman?" Otto asked, going out on a limb.

"Yeah. She used you be my Mistress, you know?"

"Your what?"

"My Mistress, the leading Lady of the Vampire court…in the LARP community I mean. She was really cool, man, she could stay in character through anything. She was really into that vampire thing; maybe a little too much."

"How so?" The Lieutenant wanted to know.

"Well, one day she told us about this other group. She said they were real hardcore and talked me into going with her to one of their meetings. Those guys were a little creepy is you ask me. They didn't really know much about the vampire culture and stuff, but they were…well just creepy. Like, umm, one of them was drinking something; it looked like red vine or something but thicker. I wanted to know what it was. He told me it was blood and asked if I wanted some. I smelled it and… it really was blood. Pigs blood from a slaughter house or something, I guess. But it was gross. Anyway I never went back to that place. I tried to tell her those guys were nuts but Sarah thought they were 'the real thing'. Soon after she stopped coming to our meetings. I haven't seen her for a while. Could be Kyle met up with her and her new group. Maybe if you talk to her…?"

"I'm afraid that isn't possible," Otto replied seriously.

Mike and his lawyer gave him a questioning look.

"Sarah Altman is dead," the lieutenant revealed. "She had been reported missing about 10 days ago. Last night we found her body in the burned out remains of an old warehouse."

The teen turned several shades paler. The news obviously came as a big shock. Otto felt bad about breaking it to the kid this way. But he told himself that this way he at least could be sure Mike wasn't involved in her death.

"Geez, man, you are not kidding, are you? She really is dead?"

Lieutenant Fisher nodded. "Positively."

They had identified the body from dental records provided by her parents. As for the second body which had been found beneath the rubble, burned beyond recognition, they had no idea yet who it belonged to.

####

The area in front of the little bookstore looked like a construction site when Quatre pulled up around 10 o'clock. No less than 3 trucks competed for space with half a dozen smaller cars. A couple of workers with tool belts were unloading wooden boards while others busied themselves with various tasks. Howard was standing near the door directing things.

"Wow!" Quatre exclaimed as he and Trowa approached the old man. "They already installed the new window. Looks good."

Howard nodded. "Security glass," he explained.

The blonde let out another: "Wow!"

"That can't have been cheap." Trowa added.

"It isn't coming out of my pockets." The old man shrugged.

"Treize Khushrenada?"

"Yep. He sent his crew out first thing this morning. Apparently he has a contractor and a whole freaking construction crew at his beg and call. They are working on the new shelves now..." Howard gestured at the back of the store where the carpenters were hard at work. "The doors in back and for the office are next."

He knocked with one bent finger against the new door leaning against the wall. It looked like wood, expensive wood, but it didn't sound like it.

"Bulletproof," Howard explained, "Steel reinforced in the center. You might want to remember opening it next time instead of trying to plow through." The last was directed at Trowa, who simply grinned.

"I can take steel... maybe."

"So...what are the chances he will also send a cleanup crew?" Quatre asked hopefully.

Howard snorted. "The cleanup crew, kid is standing right here. You don't think I trust my books to just anyone?"

"Come on, we are talking used paperbacks and old text books here, not the Library of Alexandria."

A familiar feeling of something soft brushing against his legs caused the young man to look down, his face lighting up in an instant.

"Oscar!" Quatre crouched down to pet the large cat, then looked up at Howard questioningly. "When did he get back? How...?"

"Beats me." The old man shrugged. "I heard a car in the back around 3:30. When I checked there was no one; only him sitting there and a huge box of the finest, all natural cat treats."

"Weird. I wonder where he has been? The young man picked up the tabby, pulling him into his arms with a soft smile. "If only you could talk."

####

Duo Maxwell woke with a start. _What time is it?_

The clock on his nightstand read 10:32. _Damn it! _The young man cursed, convinced that he had woken too late, until the scent of freshly brewed coffee reached his nose and he could hear noises from the kitchen.

He had meant to talk to Heero earlier when he came home, but the young man had been fast asleep, probably exhausted, and he didn't have the heart to wake him. So he figured he would just get up early and catch his houseguest before he left.

The coffee maker was running. Heero was stuffing some clothing and his toothbrush into his bag when Duo entered.

"You are still here, good. Listen, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have barked at you like that."

Heero shook his head. "No, you were right. I shouldn't have come to the club last night, especially knowing how hard you are trying to keep it…clean. I wasn't thinking. But it won't happen again. When I get back from Yosemite I'll rent a hotel room until I can find an apartment or something."

"No," Duo shook his head with a sigh. "You don't have to do that. I already told you, I'm sorry. I just… I don't want to see you get mixed up in something that's bigger than you or I can handle."

In the middle of zipping up his canvas bag, the other man raised his head. "What do you mean?"

"You mean you haven't noticed? Well I guess you really haven't been in town long enough." Duo looked at the coffee maker. "Is there some extra?"

"Yeah, I made that for you. I already had a cup. So, what **are** you talking about?"

"Things have been getting a bit heated of late." Duo rose to pour himself a cup of coffee. "People are nervous. Some of my regular customers haven't been in for days, and others have left town altogether. Something is about to happen, and it's not going to be pretty. Rumor has it someone is trying to take over this town, and those who were here first won't like it. The last turf war I remember got a lot of innocent people killed, and that was just a war between mortals."

"You lost someone in that war?" Heero asked.

There was a hint of pain in the other man's voice that made it an easy guess.

Duo froze, his hand still resting on the handle of the glass carafe. He didn't turn his head as he nodded. "Someone I cared about and who cared about me. He died protecting kids like me, who didn't have anyone else to protect them." The young man suddenly straightened, pulled his hand away and turned. "How is your shoulder?" he asked in his usual voice.

"A little stiff," Heero admitted, "but I'm sure it will heal in a few days."

"Maybe I should take a look?" Duo suggested as he put down his coffee cup. "Wouldn't want that arm to fall off all of a sudden, would we?"

His houseguest shrugged but didn't argue. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing a stab wound on his right shoulder that looked red and inflamed.

Duo frowned. "How did you say it happened?"

"Some thin switchblade knife." Heero gave another shrug.

"Ah." the braided young man nodded knowingly. "Silver plated steel. Almost everybody familiar with the occult carries those these days. I've got something that will purify the wound and take down the swelling."

Duo disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a tub of ointment a few moments later. "This is going to sting… a lot," he warned as he unscrewed the lid.

Heero braced himself for the pain. He focused on the chain around Duo's neck to distract himself as the other man slathered a generous amount of the cream onto and around the wound.

"That crucifix around your neck… why do you wear it? I mean, you are a fairy. I can't imagine too many beings from the otherworld going to mass or confession. What is it, a trophy or something like it?"

"Something like it." Duo replied evasively.

"You know, I saw one just like it, last night."

"What?" Duo's head snapped up. "Where?"

"The man who gave me that," Heero gestured at the wound in his shoulder, "was wearing it."

Jaws clenched as Duo's eyes narrowed. There was something in those purple pupils that Heero had never seen before…Hatred.

"Do you have any idea who he is?"

The young man shook his head. "They called him Ortega, but that's all I know."

"Ortega." Duo growled.

"What about it?" Heero asked. It was obvious that he had hit some kind of nerve with the mentioning of the crucifix and the name.

"I don't want to talk about it. Not now, anyway."

The young man nodded understandingly. As far as he was concerned everyone had secrets, including himself.

He pulled his t-shirt back on and reached for his bag.

"I'd better go down. I called the car rental place; they are sending a courtesy shuttle at 11," he said. "Take care, Duo."

"You too. And remember you promised to be back by the weekend. Carlos' wife is having a baby and he is taking a few days off. I'll need you to help out in the kitchen. So, you'd better make sure you'll be back by Saturday morning, or I'll come, find you wherever you are hiding and drag your sorry ass back here, understood?" Duo growled, trying hard to keep his concern out of his voice.

Heero just grinned. "Got it."

####

"Come in!" Treize demanded at the knock at the door.

He put down the picture he had been musing over, the sketch he had bought from Milliardo Peacecraft, and turned to face his personal assistant as he entered the studio apartment.

Nichols's eyes caught the drawing while he crossed the room to hand the incubus prince the mail that had just been delivered.

"Who is she?"

Treize just shrugged. "A picture I bought a few days ago. Say, do you ever have the feeling of past and present colliding?"

"Sometimes I have a hard time keeping them apart." Nichols admitted as studied the drawing a bit closer. "She is pretty. "

"Is there anything else?" the incubus prince asked as he started to sort through the pile of letters and flyers, tossing most of them unopened into the waste basket in the corner.

"Oh… yeah, the press photographer will be here at 2:30 to take pictures for the article about the grand opening gala at the 'Gilded Rose'. They already took photos of the salon on Monday, so today they are only coming for a few shots of you and a couple of the employees. I figured it would be easier for them to come here instead of having us drive there."

"Right," Treize nodded. They had re-scheduled the picture shoot after he had 'slept through' the first one. "And speaking of the 'grand opening gala'…. How are the preparations going?"

"All the invitations have been sent out," Nichols reported. "The Champagne and Wine will be flown in from France over the weekend. I took the liberty of renting a facility to have it properly stored until the day of the party. The florist will deliver the buffet centerpieces and decorations Tuesday morning, and the tables and chairs will be delivered the night before. I have also narrowed the choice of caterers down to two. We will have to make out final decision after sampling their menus tomorrow."

"No sushi, I hope?" Treize inquired with a hint of sarcasm.

"No sushi," his aid confirmed with a tiny smile. He too had heard the story of a big party on the east coast falling to pieces after half of the guests got sick with food poisoning. Catering to mortals could be such a challenge sometimes. They were such delicate creatures. A bit of food poisoning or even a piece or two of deadly puffer fish wouldn't have bothered a being from the Other World.

"Excellent!" the prince nodded. "Sounds like you have everything under control. Will you tell Luther or Leigh to pick me up after that photo session? I have a few things to take care of, and I want to check out the new salon before heading home."

"Of course, my Prince."

###

"Serene Rose, how may I help you?"

Sebastian managed to put a smile into his voice even if it didn't reach his eyes. He hated working the desk, dealing with frustrating and impatient clients, and their annoying little problems. But until the opening of the new spa next week this was where he was stuck.

"Avran Art gallery," a male voice on the other end of the line said. "We are calling to confirm the delivery."

"What delivery?" he asked.

"The painting of course."

"What painting?" Sebastian frowned.

He had no idea about a painting being scheduled to be delivered, or anything else for that matter. _Why don't they tell me such things?_

"I wouldn't know." the other man told him. "We are just the delivery service."

Sebastian's frown deepened as he thought of something. "Oh wait. Is this supposed to go to the 'Serene Rose', or the 'Gilded Rose' salon?" Maybe they just got the wrong spa.

He could hear paper being shuffled around on the other end.

"Nothing about a salon here. It says it's a private residence in Laguna Canyon. Treize Khushrenada, does that name ring a bell?"

"Oh, yes, that's my… boss." Now that made sense. From what he had seen the night before, Treize did seem to like surrounding himself with fine things, paintings included. "But I think you might have an old address. He lives in Oak Glen now."

"Hmm… that's possible, I guess. It's been a few years since our last delivery it seems. Can you give me the new address?"

"Yes, sure, hold on for one moment."

Sebastian put the man on hold and set down the phone to smile at a middle aged lady. "How can I help you today?"

"I don't have an appointment until tomorrow, but I was in the neighborhood and was wondering if there is any chance that André can fit me in for a quick massage? I am really feeling so tense today." She gave a sigh indicating the weight of the world was on her shoulders. "It's Martina Hartman."

"Well let me see what we can do for you, Missus Hartman." He checked the books then gave her an apologetic look. "I'm afraid André is completely booked out for the rest of the day. But I could fit you with one of our other masseurs?"

She gave another sigh as he looked at her questioningly. "No, I think I'll wait for my appointment tomorrow then. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

He held on to his smile until she was gone and suddenly remembered the delivery guy he had put on hold. For a moment he considered looking for Nichols to ask how he should handle the situation. But he remembered seeing him heading up to the studio apartment not too long ago. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt some kind of important conversation for something so trivial. So he picked up the phone again.

"Hello? You still there?"

"Yeah. You got the address?"

####

The mailman had rung the doorbell, which surprised her. Usually they just left any packages that didn't fit into the mailbox at the door.

"I'll need a signature, Ma'am." the middle aged man told her and whipped out his little electronic pad.

"What for?" Noin frowned in surprise. She wasn't expecting anything that would have required delivery conformation.

The mailman showed her a small package, about 10 by 12 inches and her frown deepened.

"Do you want to accept it or not?"

"Umm….sure." She grabbed the little plastic stylus and scribbled her name onto the touchpad.

The mailman gave her the package, tipped his hat and left.

Still frowning the young woman walked back into the house. She closed the door with one foot as she checked the address just to be sure it wasn't a mistake, and then the return label. Apparently the package had been sent to her by someone named Friend…no wait; she looked at the name again and snorted.

_A. Friend, very clever_, she thought. The rest of the address was probably just as fake as the name. But who would consider himself a friend and send her a package? Milliardo came to mind, she wouldn't put something like this past him. Was this his way of thanking her for spending the night?

She shook the box slightly. Something inside was moving back and forth. It sounded solid and somewhat heavy, almost like a book. She hesitated for just one moment, then curiosity got the better of her. She ripped the package open with a few swift moves and recognized that her first guess had been correct. It was a book… no actually a manuscript she realized as soon as she opened it. It was handwritten in slowly fading ink in very fluid and neat penmanship. It didn't look new either. The leather binding was starting to crack and the paper was beginning to yellow with age. And the strangest part was, it was not written in English.

Noin frowned again as she reached for her cell phone.

###

Milliardo had just gotten out of the shower when his phone rang. He probably would have ignored the call, if not for the familiar ringtone.

"Hey Noin." he greeted his friend as he picked up.

"Hey yourself." she replied. "Milliardo, the strangest thing just happened."

"Ahh…You were walking down the street and suddenly realized you forgot to put on your pants?"

The young woman snorted. "Well, aren't you a lot more cheerful than the last time I saw you. But no. I just got a package."

"Wow, now that IS strange," he joked as he settled down in the living room.

"Can you be serious for one minute and listen to me? Remember when we talked about my ancestor Lucrezia who disappeared; how I told you she was working on a book at that time?" she asked and then without waiting for his conformation went on. "I believe someone just sent me the manuscript of that book"

"What? Are you sure?"

"Not positive yet. It's handwritten in Italian. I have a hard enough time to read Italian when it is typed but from the first page it sounds like a work of fiction. And the monogram on the outside of the book is the same I remember seeing on some of her things when I packed them up at my grandmother's house."

"Who sent you the package?" Milliardo wanted to know.

"That's just it; I have no idea. The return address just says A. Friend. But I know it came from someone locally. The package was dropped off at the Santa Ana post office yesterday, I was able to check because it came with delivery confirmation."

"That's wild. What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "For now I probably will try to translate it or have it translated if I can't do it myself. Maybe the mysterious sender will somehow get in touch with me."

"Yeah, maybe." Milliardo replied, but it didn't sound as though he really meant it.

For a moment the young man considered telling her about the dreams he kept having, but after a second thought decided against it_. Oh by the way, I have been dreaming about your great-great great grandmother! No_, he thought, _that would just be the pinnacle of creepiness._

_###_

Treize Khushrenada, followed by his aide, came downstairs from the apartment about twenty minutes after two. A photography team of three had already arrived in a van with the logo of a local newspaper.

Sebastian had watched them with interest as they logged several cases of photographic equipment from their car into the spa. Now he was sitting on the edge of his desk being…well, being Sebastian, and talking to the young woman in the trio in his usual rakish manner, his smile genuine for a change. She seemed relaxed and was laughing, her face just the tiniest bit flushed.

"Are you up for a little massage?" Sebastian purred, his eyelids a little heavy. "We are all booked up, but for you I could make myself available."

"Unfortunately," she replied with a sigh. "I still have to work."

"Damn the luck." Sebastian's own sigh mirrored hers.

Nichols threw the younger incubus a sharp look which he answered by rolling his eyes before slipping off the desk and stepping back behind it.

The prince spoke briefly with the newspaper team, before they all headed for his office. At the last moment Sebastian remembered something.

"Sir! Um… about your painting… Someone probably needs to be at home when it is delivered."

Treize turned his head without holding his step. "Not now Sebastian."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 23**

"…is still trying to identify the body of the second victim found in the burned out building. According to an unofficial source in the police department, a taskforce that had been formed earlier this week to investigate the recent rise in missing person's cases has taken over the case…"

The TV died and the remote landed on the small coffee table with a thud.

"Explain, Señor Ortega!" a voice, trembling with barely concealed fury, demanded. The voice's owner, a middle aged man with dark hair, sharp features and cold, steel grey eyes, turned with his high-backed leather chair to face the Latino. "You promised me this was going to be an easy job. What happened?"

"This is only a small and temporary setback, Mister Ventuno." Ortega was standing near the door of the expensively furnished office, looking a bit like a schoolboy summoned before the principal.

"Small?" Ventuno spoke with a slight accent, Italian perhaps. "In just one night you have lost nearly one third of your 'men', I have lost a warehouse I was planning on using in the near future. Not to mention the police are now talking to possible witnesses. That is not what I consider a 'small setback'."

Ortega swallowed, but kept his face calm. "I don't think the police will get much useful information out of those 'witnesses'. And there is nothing that connects you to any of them, Mister Ventuno. As for those vampires, they can be easily replaced. There are many more where they came from willing to work for us for the right incentive."

"I don't know," Ventuno shook his head thoughtfully. "I really do not like the idea of using those… creatures. It's just…not right. But they are your responsibility. You should have never allowed them to take care of their needs on their own. This isn't Mexico or South America where people disappear and everyone turns the other way. The police were bound to ask questions."

"I know, I know," Quincy Ortega agreed. "It won't happen again. We will bring in migrant workers; nobody will know they are here and nobody cares about them."

"I hope, for your sake, you are correct." There was an unspoken threat in those gray eyes.

For years Ventuno had been one of the largest drug lords in New Mexico, until a few unforeseen problems with the new District Attorney there had forced him to look for a new and 'safer' base of operation. He didn't get to where he was now by playing nice and making friends, and he was known to run his empire with an iron fist. In fact, rumor had it that a number of Ventuno's associates and 'employees' met with unexplained ends before the D.A. was able to talk to them. Which was probably also the reason the drug lord had to find himself a new crew after moving to California. Ortega jumped at the opportunity hoping that eventually he would be more to Ventuno than just his Enforcer.

On the outside of course, the Italian ran a completely legitimate and thriving coffee import business. After all, 'Green Harvest - 100% organic Columbian Coffee', had a far better ring to it, than ' Green Harvest - 100% Columbian Cocaine'.

"Tell me what happened." Ventuno demanded.

"I'm not sure." Ortega admitted.

He had been sure the old man would be shaking in his pants and more than willing to sign the sales contract after finding his store smashed up in the morning. But instead…

"They were waiting for us. I'm not exactly sure how many there were, but they were prepared for what they were fighting and armed accordingly."

The other man frowned. "You mean vampire hunters, like in the movies?"

"No, I wouldn't exactly say that. At least two of them were not human; one a werewolf, and the other… I can't even imagine what kind of demon he was…but he was strong and fast…I have never seen anything like it."

"This is bizarre." Ventuno shook his head in disbelief. "Vampires…werewolves…demons… what kind of a place is this? Do you think those…creatures were also responsible for the attack on the warehouse?"

"It would make sense." Ortega nodded. "They probably followed one or more of the vamps that got away at the bookstore."

The drug lord's eyes narrowed. "Find them," he demanded. "I won't allow anyone to oppose me like that."

The Latino gave another nod. "I'm already on it. I injured one of the creatures. His blood should help me in tracking them down."

"I want progress reports. Now tell me about this…Treize Khushrenada. Who is he and why would he interfere with my plans?"

"From what I understand he is just a businessman, self-made millionaire, something like that. I'm sure he was just looking at it as a good opportunity to make a quick buck. He probably noticed that someone was buying up real estate in the area and decided to cut himself a piece of the pie before it was too late. I'll meet with him tomorrow. There is no doubt in my mind that he will sell for the right price."

"Very well, Señor Ortega," Ventuno said before turning his chair back toward the TV screen, indicating that the conversation was over. "But do NOT disappoint me again."

####

"Doctor Summers?" Otto showed his badge and ID to the short man in the white lab coat. Parker had dropped him off in the ambulance zone before parking the car."I was told to talk to you regarding the people admitted last night."

The doctor nodded. He checked his watch and gave a tired sigh. "Can we make this short. My daughter is in her first school play today and I promised I would be there to watch."

"The quicker the better." the Lieutenant agreed as Parker caught up with him. He had a lot on his plate as well.

"Let me find us a quiet place to talk." Summers led the two policemen into the cafeteria which was nearly empty at this time of day.

"What grade is she in? Your daughter I mean?" Otto asked.

"First," Summers replied not without pride. "So, how can I help you?"

"I understand you took care of the eight patients that were admitted by us last night? How are they? Can we talk to them?"

The doctor shrugged a little. "It's hard to say how much they will be able to tell you. So far we haven't gotten much out of them that makes sense. I have no idea if that's a side effect of the drug they were high on."

"Yeah," Detective Parker asked. "What was that stuff?"

"Not sure. I don't remember ever seeing anything like it. I took some blood samples for analysis. Physically the patients will probably recover; sooner or later. They all were emaciated and dehydrated. We have been giving them fluids intravenously which seems to be helping with the drugs, too. But they must have been taking the stuff for a while."

"They might not have been taking the drug voluntarily," Otto suggested. "Several of them have been reported missing by their parents or other family members, and they might have been held in that warehouse against their will."

Summer's eyes darkened. "I can never understand how humans could do something like that to other humans. But it might explain a thing or two."

"How so," Trend Parker wanted to know.

"I found puncture marks on most of them, at the throat area and the wrists, not the usual places to inject yourself when you shoot up. I would guess they were shooting the drug directly into the bloodstream."

"But you have no idea what kind of drug?"

"No, it isn't close to anything I have seen before. It seems to be new and highly addictive. Do you think those kids were being kept as …'guinea pigs'?"

Otto exchanged a look with the detective. That wasn't something they had thought of yet.

"Can we talk with them now?"

"With those who have come around already." Summers nodded."I'll have one of the nurses take you to them."

###

Heero crumbled up the paper bag that held the remains of his lunch; he had stopped at a fast food place along the way for a few greasy hamburgers. A few feet away a swarm of birds fought noisily over the discarded buns. After nights like last night when he spent more time than usual in his wolf form he found himself craving protein, not carbs.

He had stopped to eat even though he was only a couple of miles from Wolf Mountain where he could have found much better food. Even now, after he had finished his meal he didn't rise but remained sitting on the forest floor; watching the birds, the sun and the trees swaying gently in the mid-day breeze.

Eventually the young man realized that he was stalling. Part of him wanted to ask J why he hadn't told him the truth, why he and Odin had kept things from him all these years. But another, and perhaps larger, part wasn't sure if he truly wanted to know the answers. In the end he decided that there was nothing won by just sitting here. He could either get up and get moving, or he could turn around right now and head back to Orange County. But somehow he knew that the later was not as much a solution as just another stalling technique. Something told him that his mind would never be fully at ease until he got those answers, whether he liked them or not.

His decision made, the young man grabbed his paper bag and walked back to the road where he had left the rental truck. He slowly made his way to the Wolf Rehabilitation center. He parked in front but instead of entering the facility he walked around the buildings to the enclosure in the back where the animals were kept.

The wolves welcomed him with excited barks and howls and came to the fence to greet him. With a smile Heero knelt down, reaching through the chain links to pet them. The latch at the door had been secured with a lock he noticed, probably a security measurement implemented after the recent break-in.

A noise behind his back caused the young man to turn his head and he noticed J at the door to the labs, holding a 'Louisville Slugger' in his right hand.

"Oh! Its you." the old man spoke as he recognized him. "I didn't hear you come. The wolves were making a ruckus and I thought someone might have snuck in again."

Heero's lip twitched as he rose to his feet. "You were planning on inviting the intruder for a game of baseball?" he asked with a nod at the bat in J's hand.

Dr. J snorted but leaned the bat against the wall behind him. "Did you accomplish what you set out to do?" he asked the young man.

"Not yet." Heero shook his head. "I just came by for a few of my things…and some answers."

###

Dr. Summers hadn't been exaggerating when he spoke about the confused state of his patients. None of the three teenage boys they talked to seemed to remember much about the ordeal they went through; how they got to the warehouse or the hospital afterward. There was only one, a young woman, not much older than her male counterparts who claimed to have some information.

Her name was Samantha Middleton, 22 years old; they had identified her by her fingerprints taken a few hours earlier. Her arrest record consisted of several counts of solicitation, indecent exposure and a shoplifting incident a couple of years earlier. She wasn't one of the people on Otto's missing persons list_. _

_But then again, who would actually notice if someone like her went missing,_ the Lieutenant thought with a hint of bitterness.

He tried not to judge, telling himself that it wasn't his place. He didn't know her full story, and who knew… in a different situation, under different circumstances it could very well be him walking the streets.

Otto had pulled a chair next to her bed, writing into the notebook on his lap as she was talking, recounting what had happened to her. Or at least he had started to write until her story became more bizarre with every word it seemed. She claimed to have been propositioned by some guy on the street and then was pulled into a dark van before she could fight back. It sounded similar to what had happened to those two young women in the news. But she claimed that her abductors hadn't been human, but demons of some sort, hideous creatures. She also insisted that she had taken no drugs of any kinds, but the creatures must have injected her with it…with their tongue or their teeth.

She showed Otto her bandaged wrist where she claimed she had been bitten.

"I bet that must have hurt. Did they tie you up or something?"

She shook her head, her full red hair flowing back and forth. "No it didn't; not a lot. Maybe it was their saliva? It prickled when they licked my arm and then the skin went numb…like when you go to the dentist, you know?"

Parker, half leaning against, half sitting on the windowsill at the other side of the room, put his finger against his temple and turned it. Crazy! His expression read.

Otto was almost inclined to agree with his partner, but he let her ramble on a bit longer, until she got to the part of their rescue. Yes, she called it 'rescue', insisting that a group of men had stormed the warehouse and killed all the bad guys before disappearing into the night. The only problem with that story was that they had found no evidence of a battle, no bullet shells or any corpses that had been left behind.

"…they were dressed all in black, like ninjas or something."

"Ninja?" the detective echoed. "Did they carry katanas and throwing stars, too?

"Some of them had knives and others had swords," she nodded, either not noticing or just ignoring the sarcasm in Parker's voice." One of the swords was actually glowing, kind of like a lightsaber."

"I get it. They weren't actually ninja, they were jedi knights."

"I know you think I'm crazy." This time she glowered at the detective. "But I saw what I saw. I know there is no such thing as jedi knights, I also know there shouldn't be such things as vampires, either. But I know what happened. And whatever they were, I don't think they were human."

"What about those….men," Otto inquired. "Did they free you and the others from those cages and take you outside to where we found you?"

Of course he didn't believe in the whole 'ninja' story any more than Detective Parker did, but someone had to have been there. Someone opened those cages and led the confused and drugged people outside. There was no way they would have done that on their own.

She nodded. "Yeah, but I'm not sure why."

Just then a nurse came into the room to remind them that Miss Middleton needed her rest. Otto nodded as he rose to his feet.

"I think we are done here for now, anyway. We will talk again." he nodded to Samantha. "Thanks for your help. If there is anything else you remember let us know."

"I'm not imagining things, you know," she called after the two policemen as they walked out of the room.

"Wow!" Parker exclaimed as soon as the door had closed behind them. "What in the world is that stuff those people were high on? It scares the hell out of me just thinking that it might become widely available."

The lieutenant gave a short, but affirmative grunt, too absorbed in his own thoughts to have a meaningful conversation.

####

"It's already dried and there really isn't a great amount of it," the crouched little man complained as he carefully examined the thin blade of the stiletto knife from behind thick prescription glasses.

Quincy Ortega snorted. "If I had been able to hold the thing down long enough to bleed it I wouldn't need your help tracking it down, now would I?"

"Alright, alright." the other man grumbled soothingly.

"You still can do it, can't you?"

"Sure. But it will take a little longer. I will have to modify my spell."

"How much longer?" Ortega wanted to know.

The answer was a shrug. "A day, maybe two. Difficult to say. I will call you when it is done."

The tall Latino scowled. "I'd rather stay and watch."

"This isn't a magic show," the other man replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I don't give public performances."

"That's not very business minded," Ortega's voice was thick with sarcasm. "What about the whole 'the customer is king' slogan?"

"You came to me, remember? I didn't ask for your business. It's my terms or nothing."

The man looked up, not the least bit intimidated it seemed. There was something rat-like in his features; a bony face with a long nose and little beady eyes that seemed to be moving constantly.

"Very well," Ortega grunted.

He looked around the little basement apartment, if one could call it that. The floors were bare stone except for where a thick carpet covered a patch beneath a little table. The walls were lined with shelves filled with flasks, jars and bottles of all shapes and sizes; filled with liquids and powders and other things the Latino couldn't even identify. Inlaid into the floor in the corner was what looked like some kind of magic circle containing runes and symbols. Ortega didn't know enough of that kind of stuff to know what they meant.

The man shuffled over to the circle on the floor, placed the knife in its center and mumbled a few words too low for Ortega to understand. Moments later the runes started to glow, first one… then a second. Suddenly they stopped again.

The wizard turned his head, throwing the other man an impatient look. "You can go now," he said in his thin croaking voice. "Your presence here is interfering with my concentration. I have your number. I will call you when it is done."

Ortega gave little huff but without a word turned and started to climb the creaking steps leading upstairs. A door made of heavy wood lay at the end of the staircase, and beyond it the lobby of a shabby apartment building. When he stepped back out onto the sidewalk Ortega took a deep breath, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. This place and it's inhabitant just gave him the creeps.

####

On the way back from the hospital Otto didn't speak as much as a single word. It wasn't as though he was known to be very chatty, but even his partner couldn't help but notice his unusual quietness.

"Are you worried about something, Lieutenant?"

"Just thinking," he replied. "About what the girl was talking about. What do you think about the idea of vampires and such?"

"Crazy." Parker snorted. "Absolute craziness if you ask me."

"Maybe." Otto gave a thoughtful sound. "Have you read the transcript of my conversation with Mike Carter?"

"More or less."

"Remember what he told us about Sarah Altman, the girl who died in that warehouse? She had joined a new crowd of vampire LARP players, some guys she called 'the Real Thing'…"

"Lieutenant you aren't suggesting…"

"Just listen for a moment, Parker. LARP players act out their role playing fantasies, right? They pretend to be their characters. What if those guys Sarah started to hang out with took the whole thing a step further? Maybe they thought they could be vampires… **are** vampires? Mike also said he had seen them drink blood. What if it wasn't pig blood as he assumed…?"

"Holy shit, Lieutenant! Do you know what you are suggesting?" Parker threw his partner a quick look.

"I **do** know." Otto confirmed solemnly.

"So, those guys want to be vampires. They start drinking blood and kidnap people for their supply? That is so seriously messed up that it might be true. But what about the drugs?"

The Lieutenant shrugged. "They have to keep their victims quiet somehow, don't they? And it would also fit with the biting that hooker told us about. After talking to Mike I did a bit of internet research on LARPs and vampire LARPs specifically. I came across a forum where someone mentioned that there was some dentist in Chicago who actually implants canines that look like fangs. Wouldn't be surprised if that can be done here in California, too."

"Hmm…" Parker turned quiet, thoughtful for a while. "If you are right, Lieutenant, we'd better find the rest of our missing persons before it is too late," he finally said. "What do you think the chief is going to say?"

"I guess I'll find out tomorrow morning. There is nothing that can be done anymore today." Otto checked his watch, it was a quarter to six, which meant they had been on duty for nearly 16 hours. More than time for them to take themselves off the clock. "Is someone waiting for you at home, Detective?"

"Just an anti-social cat, cold pizza and warm beer, why?"

"Mind making it warm pizza and cold beer instead?" Otto gestured at the Italian restaurant across the street. "My treat."

"Sure, why not? As long as you won't keep calling me Detective the whole time."

"Trend then?" the Lieutenant asked with a little smirk. "And I'm Otto, at least while we are off duty."

###

Oak Glen was an elegant, high-class neighborhood. The properties here didn't come cheap, that much was sure. The houses, none of them worth less than two or three million, were well spread out with large open areas of land and woods between them; to give the people living here the privacy they had paid for. It was a peaceful place, an exclusive place, a place perfect for an incubus demon who didn't want his neighbors peeking over the backyard fence.

Number 32 was a modern yet elegant, two story building, cream colored stucco with dark trimmings. The three-car garage was underground, the driveway lined with California Redbud and the front yard covered with other native, drought resistant plants. How environmentally conscious.

Milliardo Peacecraft spent nearly an hour checking the place out, looking for video cameras - he didn't find any but he was sure they were there- even peeking over the backyard fence. There was a large pool, drained and covered. The garden looked English in style with a lot of roses and lavender bushes. A covered patio, connected to the house through a large sliding door, was set up in a way that one could overlook the whole place. A cobblestone path wound its way around the pool and to a small gate at the opposite end of the garden. Beyond the gate lay several acres of open land covered in knee-high deer grass, bushes and oak trees, which the neighborhood had gotten its name from.

The sun was beginning to set when Milliardo found himself a good spot across the street from the house and waited for the incubus to come home. At one point it occurred to him that he could be in for a very long wait if Treize decided to go out for dinner or a party after work. But shortly after seven he could hear the engine of an approaching car. Soon thereafter he saw the same black limousine that got away from him the day before, come up the hill. The town car drove past him, turned at the end of the Cul-de-sac and returned to stop in front of the house. The driver, not the bald secret service agent look-alike from the day before, got out to open the door for his passenger.

Instinctively Milliardo ducked deeper behind the bushes he was hiding behind as Treize Khushrenada exited the car.

"What time tomorrow morning?" he could hear the driver ask.

"I'll drive myself, don't worry about it, Leigh. Good night."

"Good night, my Prince."

As Treize walked up the lit pathway toward his front door, Leigh climbed back into the limousine but didn't drive off right away.

_Come on! _Milliardo urged mentally. _ Don't just sit there. _

He was beginning to worry that the incubus prince would make it all the way inside before he could catch up with him when the car finally pulled away. The blonde waited a few more seconds until it was a good distance away before dashing from his hiding place.

Treize was still unlocking the door when he heard him coming. He jerked around in alarm, but relaxed as soon as he recognized the young man.

"Milliardo!?" he blinked, surprise on his face. "What are you doing here?"

Milliardo's eyes narrowed, his right hand clenched into a fist and without even thinking he slugged the incubus on the chin as hard as he could!

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 24**

The blow was hard enough to knock Treize backwards, but not off his feet. He hit the door with his right shoulder, pushing it open with the impact, and suddenly something huge and swift leaped past the incubus and toward Milliardo.

The blonde's eyes went wide in shock, his jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of the large white tiger.

"Jian!" Treize demanded. "Stop it!"

The huge cat landed on soft paws directly in front of Milliardo. Ears laid back it exposed a impressive set of 5 inch fangs in a ferocious snarl. The young man's mouth went dry and he could feel the blood drain from his face.

"Jian!" Treize's voice was firm. "He is a friend. Don't eat him."

The tiger looked over his shoulder at his master and his snarl turned into a softer growl. His threatening posture however never changed until the incubus grabbed the animal with one hand and pushed him aside.

"Go inside…Go!"

With a series of disgruntled sounds the cat eventually padded away.

Milliardo swallowed again, and finally dared to let out the breath he had been holding.

"Snowball?" he asked, his voice sounding shaky to his own ears.

Treize nodded as he gingerly felt his jaw with his fingers, making sure nothing was broken.

"What the hell was that for?"

"That…" the blonde replied, anger returning to his voice. "…was for lying to me."

"I never lied to you." the incubus prince insisted.

"Oh really?" Milliardo snorted. "Then I must have missed the part where you told me what you really are."

"I don't remember you ever asking."

The blond gave a growl that would have made Snowball proud. "What about the whole…"My parents are divorced and I am an only child because my siblings died before I was born" story you fed me? Man, I must be a real sucker."

"I never used the word divorced," Treize pointed out. "My mother and my father do live separate lives. And as for my brothers, that wasn't a lie either. I know there were two of them, maybe more, and they were killed before I was born. Now… shall we continue our conversation inside?"

Milliardo's glare softened somewhat. Following the other man's inviting gesture he stepped through the front door and waited for Treize to show him into a large room which he remembered from his little video tour through the house.

Jian… Snowball broke his impersonation of an area rug in front of the fireplace, and raised his head. Milliardo instinctively slowed down, but the tiger just yawned and went back to sleep, or whatever it is cats are doing twenty-five hours of the day.

"How did you find this place anyway?" Treize wanted to know as he gestured to one of the chocolate brown leather chairs.

"It wasn't easy."

"Wait…" Treize frowned thoughtfully. "**You** were the driver following us yesterday! I thought Luther got rid of you?"

"Yeah. After that I had to become really resourceful. Luckily I remembered you mentioned that you don't live very far from the Shabu Shabu place we went to. Only two nearby neighborhoods. Then a few phone calls to the right places…"

The incubus gave him a half amused half wary look. "I'll have to be careful around you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Treize gave a little huff. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Umm… You got beer?"

"I believe so. Give me a second."

The moment Treize stepped out of the room Snowball raised his head again. He stretched leisurely with a lazy yawn, his eyes focused on Milliardo, then slowly walked toward him. The room suddenly felt below freezing and grew colder with every step the large cat took.

Milliardo swallowed. "Umm… Treize?!" he kept his voice low, trying not to startle the animal.

The tiger stretched his neck, sniffing Milliardo's pants, slowly making his way upward until his black, shining-wet nose rested directly over the amulet beneath the young man's shirt. A low sound rumbled in his chest. Milliardo turned rigid.

Treize appeared in the door to the living room, carrying two bottles of dark imported beer. "What is it?"

"What's he doing?" Milliardo barely dared to breathe.

"I think he is taking a liking to you." The incubus grabbed a couple of coasters and set the beer bottles down on the table.

"He is growling," the blonde pointed out, not completely convinced by Treize's assessment.

"He is scuffing," the other man corrected. "It's a tiger's way of purring, a sound of contentment not aggression."

"Yeah well, I wouldn't mind him being content a little further away from my throat."

With an amused sound the incubus slapped the tiger's shoulder, walked to the patio door and opened it with a swoosh. The large cat brushed his head against Milliardo's leg as he turned and slowly strolled out into the garden.

"You know, he doesn't really eat humans; only the occasional demon."

_That is not very reassuring,_ Milliardo thought with a wry grin.

"I'm sorry he scared you, but he was only trying to protect me. He is actually a very well behaved pet."

"Funny, I was going to tell you the same thing about Wufei."

"That he is a well behaved pet?" Treize raised one eyebrow in amusement, but somehow his voice sounded a little more tense and weary than usual.

"That he was just trying to protect me. When he walked in and saw you leaning over me he thought I was being attacked. I'm sorry."

"It was not your fault."

"I invited you and made you believe that you were safe at my place. So yes, I do feel a certain responsibility. How is your arm?"

"It's water under the bridge." the incubus replied. "Is that why you are here; to apologize?"

Milliardo frowned slightly. Yes, why exactly did he come here?

"That too," he remarked evasively as he reached for his beer, only to realize that it didn't have a screw top.

"Sorry." Treize rose. "Let me get an opener."

As he left the room the blonde got to his feet as well, walking over to the sliding patio doors to look outside into the garden. Even though the large cat had startled him he had to admit Treize's tiger was a magnificent animal. A piece of window glass properly offered no more protection in case of an attack than a sheet of rice paper, yet in a strange way the barrier gave him at least a sense of safety. However, as Milliardo's eyes searched the garden he couldn't see the white tiger anywhere. There weren't really that many places to hide for such a large animal, either.

The young man could hear Treize's footsteps behind him as the incubus returned and turned his head.

"Where did he go?"

"He probably left."

Milliardo frowned. "Left? Where to?"

"He'll be back sooner or later," the incubus prince replied somewhat evasively as he held out the bottle opener to the young man.

"Thanks." Milliardo reached for it but the moment their fingers touched Treize pulled back his hand as though he had burned his fingers, flinching in pain.

"What the hell…! What was that?"

"Protection charm." the blonde replied with a half embarrassed, half apologetic grin. "Sorry, I totally forgot."

Treize grunted, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. "So, why **did** you come here?"

Milliardo shrugged as he walked back to his chair. "I thought we should talk."

"Alright, let's talk." The incubus crossed his arms in front of his chest in a way that he was cradling his right.

_The injury still bothers him,_ Milliardo thought with a flash of remorse.

He opened his beer and took a long swag. The ale was cool and smooth, but his mouth was so parched that he hardly tasted it.

"I also wanted to be sure that you were okay," he said as he set the bottle back onto the coaster. "and I wanted you to know that I really didn't mean for what happened to happen."

Treize's eyes softened, a gentle smirk tugging on his lips. "And you wanted to punch out my lights?"

"No," Milliardo gave another embarrassed grin. "That was more or less a spur of the moment reaction: my muscles simply bypassing my brain you could say."

"Ahhh," the smirk widened a little. "Does that happen often to you? Then I shall be more careful in the future."

The blonde huffed then looked up. "Treize there is something I have to ask you. And I want you to answer me…honestly."

"As I said before, I've never lied to you."

"Then tell me…That night when you first walked into the Rainbow Pond, why of all the people in the bar did you pick me to talk to?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why me? There were dozens of other guys sitting alone."

Treize's smirk changed a little; became more of a smile. "You mean other than you looking like you needed someone to talk to… other than me being instantly attracted to you… or you looking unbelievably hot and sexy…" his voice changed; not much but in a very subtle way. It became smoother and a little lower, as he took a couple of slow steps toward Milliardo's chair.

The younger man swallowed, mouth suddenly dry again.

"… other than me wanting to rip off your clothes right then and there, taste your beautiful lips and every part of your magnificent body?"

Milliardo's heartbeat quickened. His pants suddenly felt uncomfortablly tight.

Treize's voice was almost a purr now, as he reached out to run his fingers through the younger man's hair, only to pull his hand back again with curse.

"Damn it!" The incubus backed off and turned away, clearly annoyed this time.

"I'm sorry." Milliardo mumbled as he reached beneath his shirt and pulled out the amulet.

Treize turned his head toward him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking it off," the blonde explained, slipping the talisman over his head, setting it down on the coffee table next to his beer bottle.

"Maybe that isn't such a good idea."

The incubus still kept his back toward him. His voice was back to normal, the magic of the moment gone.

"Why?"

Milliardo smoothly rose to his feet, breaching the distance between him and the other man with one long stride. For a moment it looked like Treize was going to back away again, but the younger man reached for his arm.

The incubus looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "This is not a good time to be around me. Something might happen… something we both will regret."

Milliardo snorted. "I thought we went past that part already?"

"You don't understand."

Treize's voice sounded strained. Milliardo could feel him tremble with the same physical need he felt himself… or so he thought. He reached out, gently cupping the back of the other man's head as he pulled him closer.

Treize moaned, his eyes darkened, pupils growing bigger until there was almost no white left in those eyes. He leaned in, his mouth closing in on Milliardo's slightly parted lips. But at the last moment he suddenly pulled away with a growl, backing away before the younger man could reach for him again.

Milliardo looked up in confusion and, when he met Treize's eyes, saw something in those blue orbs that he had never seen before.

_Is he angry?_

The incubus moved toward the table, reached for Milliardo's amulet and tossed it at him underhand.

"Put it back on." he demanded, his voice rough. "Put it on, and then leave."

_What just happened?_

He slipped the talisman back over his head. Treize was standing with his back to him, staring out of the window… or watching him in the reflection, he wasn't sure.

"Treize?" he asked softly. "Did I do something…?"

"Just leave." the incubus interrupted. "I think it would be best if you never come here again."

Milliardo's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightened.

"Fine!" he snapped. "If that's what you want!"

He turned on his heels heading for the exit, his head spinning in anger. He had not quite reached the door when Treize called out after him.

"Do you want me to call you a cab?" His voice sounded softer now, and tired, very tired.

"Thank, but no thanks." the blonde pressed through his teeth. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."

He slammed the door behind himself, stomped down the driveway and hiked the mile or so to the spot where he had left his car behind. The fresh evening air helped somewhat to clear his mind, and by the time he reached the Corvette his anger had almost vanished, replaced by a feeling of confusion.

_What in the world happened?_

###

When Wufei looked up while practicing his forms he was surprised to see Milliardo standing near the entrance, watching him. The evening class had ended only 30 minutes ago and he hadn't locked up the dojo yet after the last students left.

"Milliardo?!" What's wrong?" he asked, alarm in his voice.

"Nothing," the blonde replied as he kicked off his shoes before stepping onto the training mat.

"You never come here on your own," the guardian pointed out.

Milliardo shrugged. "I got home and you weren't there, so I figured I would find you here. It's still early. I thought we could use up one of the many 'training session' rain-checks you've collected over time."

Wufei eyed the older man suspiciously. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

"Yes… I just have some steam to let off and figured this might be the best way of doing it. Not to mention I punched someone today and nearly broke my hand. Damn, it hurt. It's not like in the movies, you know."

"I'm not going to teach you how to pick a fight." the young Chinese man replied seriously.

"I know."

While they were speaking Milliardo had taken off his jacket and dropped it onto the floor beside his shoes and socks. As he slipped off his t-shirt Wufei noticed in satisfaction that the young man was wearing his protective amulet.

Milliardo's eyes followed the guardian's look. "Should I take it off?"

"May be a good idea." Wufei nodded. The mirrored walls were designed for trainees to watch their own moves not for someone to be thrown into them, repeatedly.

He picked up a pair of wooden training swords, about 3 feet long, from the rack near the door to the dressing rooms, tossing one of them to Milliardo.

The two men walked to the middle of the room and bowed to each other. They warmed up with a few simple moves, alternately striking each other's weapon in a steady rhythm that became faster over time, the solid swords clicking at each contact.

Over time Wufei's hits became more forceful, driving the other man backward in his attempt to defend himself. Milliardo's breath came in shallow huffs and he could feel sweat starting to form on his forehead. He planted his feet solidly onto the mat stopping the attack and then went on the offensive himself. Wufei moved in fast, fluent motions, blocking and evading nearly every strike with ease. Where Milliardo was strong and powerful, he was nimble and swift. Sidestepping yet another strike he spun in a half circle around his opponent, bringing his weapon down in the small of Milliardo's back.

If this would have been a real fight he would have severed the young man's spine in the blow. As things were, Milliardo only dropped down to his knees with a grunt of discomfort.

"Damn. Where did I go wrong?"

"You always assume that it is necessary to hit hard. You move like a rhinoceros, sacrificing speed for power. You need to find a balance between them."

"Hmm…" Millardo wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. "Two out of three?"

The younger man nodded, and they returned to the center to repeat their ritual.

"Wufei!" the blonde spoke as they tapped weapons at a slow speed. "You told me that Incubi feed on humans. How often do they ….feed?"

"Depends.' Wufei grunted. "Their hunger is connected to their power consumption. If they use up a lot of power they will need to replenish it. But they can go weeks, even months without feeding if need be."

"What if they can't or don't feed?"

The younger man shrugged. "They will keep using whatever energy they have stored but eventually survival instincts will kick in and they will feed. That's when they easily lose control."

"Lose control?" Milliardo echoed with a grunt as he blocked a blow from the left.

"An incubus that feeds regularly will more or less 'nibble' at its prey's life energy, a little bit at a time without too much harm. But a starving demon, incubus…Vampire…whatever, might not be able to control himself and quite easily kill a human in one feeding."

Milliardo's focus wavered and he earned himself a smack across his fingertips as a result. He took a deep breath and lowered his weapon, shaking his burning hand.

"That hurt!" he glared at the other man.

"Are we talking, or are we fighting?"

"Why can't we do both?" Milliardo inquired stubbornly as he swung his sword again, meeting Wufei's. "I don't get it, though… that whole nibbling at one's life force thing. That day when I brought Treize home we had sex…twice. And honestly I didn't feel anything. No, that came out wrong. It was the hottest and most intense sex I ever had but it didn't feel like I lost any of my energy…geez, I could have gone for a third time if it was up to me…"

"Okay, I think I get the picture." Wufei rolled his eyes. "First off, unless an incubus takes a really good chunk out of you, you wouldn't know it right away. Secondly it might have something to do with you not being human. How do I explain this best…?"

This time the younger man lowered his weapon, setting it aside as he settled down on the mat gesturing for Milliardo to join him. Moments later they were sitting across from one another.

"Okay, think of it this way… When a human is born he is given a battery full of life energy. It holds enough power to last for about 100- 120 years tops. When the energy runs out the human dies, depending on their lifestyle in some cases sooner in some later. Therefore Incubi and other demons that take some of that life energy away indirectly are responsible for the human's early death, even if they don't kill him on the spot. Now on the other hand, demons live much longer lives; some as long as for eternity. Therefore, when they are born they are given a rechargeable battery so to speak. They can renew their life energy in different ways and technically will never run out."

"Hmm… So, you are saying that even if another demon nibbles at me here and there I could recharge myself…" Milliardo mused thoughtfully. _But he doesn't know that. Treize must think I'm human. _Suddenly he realized that what he had seen in the incubus' eyes wasn't anger…it was hunger. _He was trying to protect me, afraid that he might lose control if we were to kiss. _

And then something else occurred to him as he looked at Wufei. "So how am I 'recharging'? I'm not feeding of off other humans like Treize… like my mother, am I?"

"Don't worry, you haven't harmed anyone." the younger man assured him. "Remember those times when you suddenly develop a craving for sugary things…?"

…_sugar? Wufei's Honey Smacks that morning after I discovered the hickey on my neck and stopped the vase from falling. I was putting sugar in my coffee that afternoon when Treize and I had sex, and I had Noin order dessert with our takeout dinner after I caused the earthquake. The box of donuts after I used my powers on the amulet, _Milliardo realized. _ And I usually don't even like donuts._

"Sugar?" he echoed. "That simple?"

"Sometimes simple is good." Wufei replied philosophically.

"True," Milliardo agreed with a smirk. "Get up so that I can **simply** kick your ass and get out of here."

"You and what army?"

####

"Did you have enough to eat?"

"Why does everyone always ask me that?" Heero frowned as he threw his napkin onto his plate.

"Well, look at yourself. You are skinny as a beanstalk, you obviously aren't eating enough."

"I just have a fast metabolism," the young man snorted. "Besides, pot…kettle, right?"

Heero rose to his feet and started clearing the plates from the table, piling them into the sink to wash them later. J got up as well, shuffling over to the stove to put on water to make tea. He always had a cup after dinner, for as long as Heero could remember.

"You said you had questions." the scientist said, with his back to the young man. "Are you going to ask them?"

Heero grimaced. Since he got here he had helped feed the wolves, cleaned the wolf enclosure and packed his things. He took his motorcycle into town to get groceries and gas, and even cooked dinner. _I'm still stalling_, he realized. Finally he took a deep breath.

"I met with a man named Howard the other day. Odin gave me his name, and he said he knows you as well."

"Howard, huh," J put tealeaves into the pot from a red and gold tin. "How is he?"

"He almost lost his bookshop in some kind of turf war, but I think the guys will leave him alone now." Heero walked over to the fridge, got out the milk and grabbed two tea mugs from the cupboard beside it.

"Oh?"

"You don't sound too concerned."

"Does it appear that way?" J gave a little crackling laugh. "Howard, you should know, is one of those people smart enough to always land on their feet, like a cat with nine lives. Although, I think he used up ten of them already. "

The water kettle started to whistle and the old man poured the hot water into the teapot before carrying it over to the table where Heero was already waiting.

"Since you mentioned Howard I have a feeling I know what you are going to ask me."

"He said Odin used to kill werewolves. Is it true? Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"What's the point? What difference would it have made?" J lowered himself into his chair slowly. "Sometimes we are better off not knowing certain things."

"No," Heero shook his head. "I don't believe that. Will you tell me what happened?"

"Where do you want me to start?" the old man sighed.

"Why did Odin hunt werewolves?"

"Why? I don't know. Only he could tell you that. He comes from a long line of hunters. His father and grandfather they all were Schwarze Jäger. He probably shot his first rifle before he was old enough to start school. I suppose he was raised to believe that he was doing the world a favor exterminating supernatural creatures." The old man paused to pour the tea. "One day Odin was tracking a very old and very wise wolf, by the name of Black Cloud."

Heero frowned. "I think I've heard that name before."

"You might have," J agreed. "Black Cloud was Joseph Spotted Deer's grandfather."

The young man gasped. So that was the connection. He had always wondered why the Navajo sheriff knew so much about werewolves and nearly all of Odin's secrets.

"What Odin didn't know was that Black Cloud was protecting a group of young wolves. He had taken them into the wilderness to teach them. On his own he could have easily slipped away from the hunter, but since he couldn't and wouldn't abandon his charges he got himself backed into a corner. When Odin got too close he attacked, catching the hunter of guard and wounding him seriously. He could have killed Odin on the spot, but that was not the kind of man Black Cloud was. Instead he brought the hunter to me. I was only a young doctor back then, and my clinic wasn't really equipped to deal with serious injuries. Odin had lost a lot of blood and the only way for us to save him was through a quick transfusion. Luckily Black Cloud's blood was type 0 so I was able to use him as a direct donor. Odin, as you know survived, but it came with a price."

"The blood transfusion turned him into a werewolf himself?" It was a statement more than a question.

J nodded silently.

"How did he take it?"

"Not really well, at first. But I think he was more terrified than anything else. Black Cloud took him to the reservation, introduced him to other wolves and taught him how to control his new powers. Over time he learned to live… no he became content with his new self."

"Howard told me about the belt Odin used to wear, the one made of werewolf hide he marked his kills on. Why did he continue to wear such a thing?"

"Ah yes," the old man nodded. "I asked him about that, too, one day. He told me it was the only thing he had kept of his old self; to remind himself who he had been, of the wrongs he had committed, and the lives he had taken."

The kitchen fell silent as both Heero and J followed their own train of thoughts. Several minutes passed before the young man looked up. "Thanks. I think I understand him better now."

####

This time Milliardo drove up all the way to the house. He parked the Corvette in the driveway next to another car. It wasn't the silver Mercedes he had seen Treize drive before, but a night-blue Audi instead. But he had no doubt the incubus prince probably owned a number of different cars.

As he turned off the engine and opened the door the young man suddenly hesitated. After a brief moment of consideration he reached beneath his shirt, pulled out the protective charm and slipped it over his head. He stuffed and locked it into the glove compartment before finally slipping out of the driver's seat.

Milliardo walked up to the front door and knocked against the wood with his knuckles. Treize opened at the second rap.

"Milliardo!" he blinked, obviously surprised. "What are you doing here…again?"

"May I come in?"

"This is not a good time."

"Please?"

"Very well." The incubus sighed as he stepped aside to let the young man enter.

He had changed since the last time they'd met, wearing a pair of dark trousers now and a silver gray shirt. He looked freshly shaven and smelled of shampoo and a hint of cologne…no, it was too fruity, almost too sweet to be a men's fragrance.

Milliardo stepped into the living room and stopped dead in his tracks. In front of him, sitting in the same chair he had occupied a few hours earlier, was a woman. His jaw nearly hit the ground. She was beautiful, perfect in every aspect… from her long legs, slender body and well shaped breasts to her sensual lips, dark, sultry eyes and long flowing hair. She looked at him in unadulterated curiosity, yet her eyes did not betray what she was thinking.

"May I introduce," Treize's announced in his usual calm voice. "Milliardo Peacecraft, please meet Lady Une, my mate."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 25**

"Milliardo Peacecraft, please meet Lady Une, my mate."

He felt like someone sucker punched him in the gut.

"Oh my gosh; I'm such an idiot. I…I'm sorry." _How dense can one be? He told me twice that this wasn't a good time and a good idea. It should have been obvious that he was waiting for someone, obvious to anyone, but me, I guess. _

He turned on his heels, face red in embarrassment. But before Milliardo could flee a strong hand clamped around his wrist.

"Milliardo, wait!"

"Let go of me!" he growled. His eyes darkened and at this moment he regretted having left his talisman in the car.

"No!" Treize replied, his voice firm. "Not until you stop and let me explain."

Milliardo glared at the incubus. "What's there to explain?" he asked. "The situation is pretty much self-explanatory, wouldn't you think? I don't need you to point out how dense I was."

"That's exactly why. You have the totally wrong idea about the situation. Lady Une came here to deliver a message from my mother," The incubus turned toward the young woman. "We are done here, are we not, my Lady?"

"I believe so." She nodded as she rose to her feet with the grace of a gazelle and walked toward them.

"I will see you again, my Prince." She placed a soft kiss on his cheek, then smiled and turned her face toward Milliardo. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mister Peacecraft."

A soft wave of bliss moved over him as her eyes brushed across his body, and he could feel his heart beat quickening. His face flushed and he barely managed to choke out: "The pleasure is mine."

Treize touched her arm gently breaking whatever enchantment she was using on him. Milliardo licked his lips, almost regretting the loss of sensation. His eyes followed them as the Incubus walked her to the door and wished her good-bye.

_What just happened? She didn't even touch me._

"I don't understand…" he stammered as Treize returned, confusion in his voice.

"Of course you don't," the other man replied softly, as though he was talking to a child. "Sit down, you are trembling."

Indeed. Milliardo suddenly realized that his knees were shaking. He took a few steps and dropped into the chair Une had vacated. The scent of her perfume…her presence still seemed to be lingering on the leather.

There was a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table, both barely touched. Milliardo couldn't help feeling another sting of jealousy_, _but he tried not to dwell on it and instead asked.

"How did she do that?"

Treize smiled knowingly as he settled down in the chair across from him. "Une is a succubus, as you probably have guessed. Succubi are, by nature, even more alluring than their male counterparts. And Une is strong…very strong, even for one of her kind. No wonder my mother found her to be a suitable match for me."

"Yeah, about that." Milliardo's eyes narrowed a little. "Does she know… I mean that you..."

"…that I sleep with other people?" the incubus gave a little laugh. "Of course she does. It is, my Dear, the way we are. But I don't expect you to understand. In fact very few mortals or demons fully comprehend the structure and procedures of the Succubi and Incubi society." He looked at Milliardo to see if the young man was following his words. "By now, I assume Mr. Chang has told you who I am?"

The younger man nodded. "Something like the rebellious son of the incubus king and the succubus queen who couldn't wait long enough for his father to die and tried to help him along a little?"

Treize laughed again, but it sounded more bitter than amused. "Close enough for the purpose." he said and then explained. "Incubi and succubi have their own courts. Lady Une is one of the royals in my mother's court and she is also her confidant. When I came of age my mother chose her as my future mate, based on her background… her breeding… her loyalty toward the house Khushrenada. Should I ever take control of the incubus court she will become my leading lady. And she will also bear any legitimate offspring I might produce, but other than that Une and I will always live our separate lives. She doesn't care who I am with and I'm quite sure she keeps her own little harem to amuse herself with. That's the way of our kind. And that's all there is to it."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Is that jealousy I'm detecting in your voice?" Treize gave a little smirk.

Something was different about him, Milliardo realized. He looked more relaxed and less tired than he did before.

"Something's changed."

"Beg pardon?"

"**You have** changed," the blonde clarified. "Earlier, during my first visit, your voice sounded more strained and you could barely stop yourself from trembling when you touched me. And now…" Milliardo paused briefly as it hit him. "You have fed!"

"Yes, I do occasionally feed upon her as well. That's my prerogative as her mate. And… she is strong enough to stop me should I go too far. " Treize admitted calmly. Suddenly one of his eyebrows jumped up in surprise. "You really are jealous, aren't you?"

"So?" the younger man snapped."Am I not allowed to be? Maybe I'm irrational, call it the 'only child' syndrome, but I don't like to share. When I came here I thought we had something and that in spite of what had happened on Sunday we still felt for each other. I was right here, and you threw me out and instead… ordered **Take Out**."

One of Treize's eyebrows rose. "Take Out! I hope you are never foolish enough to call her that to her face."

"Do you love her?"

"Love her?" the incubus prince asked as though the word was foreign to him. "I care for her, yes. I admire her strength. She puts herself in danger every time she leaves the safety of my mother's protection to meet me; every time she comes to see me when I'm worn out or hurt. But…, as I told you already, I didn't call for her. She showed up with a message. She saw what condition I was in and offered herself…"

"So did I, if you remember, but you pushed me away."

"Because you don't understand." Treize's voice had a bit of a sharp edge to it, as though he was losing patience. "Your guardian was right in warning you about me. You have never seen what I can be like when I'm hungry - and I hope you never will. You have no idea of what kind of danger you were in when you walked in here this evening. No idea how close I was giving in to your temptations… how close to…"

"Losing control?" Milliardo completed the sentence for him. "Treize, I might not be an incubus, but I have some strength, too. Don't think I would allow you to use me as some 'all-you-can-eat' buffet when we are together."

_You really don't understand._ The incubus sighed.

The blonde reached out, touching his arm gently. Treize tensed a little, as though expecting another jolt from the protective charm but relaxed again when it didn't come.

"I'm not wearing the amulet." Milliardo said quietly. "I figured it would only get in the way. I came here to…" _…seduce you. Hell, how crazy is that? I came here to seduce an incubus! _The young man snorted.

Treize raised one inquiring eyebrow.

"Oh shut up." Milliardo's eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance as he grabbed the older man by the front of his shirt pulling him closer. He leaned in, pressing his lips against Treize's mouth with the urgency of a thirsty man searching for water. One of his arms snaked around the incubus' waist, determined to not let him pull away this time. But Treize seemed to have no intention of doing so. Instead he melted into Milliardo's kiss, parting his lips slightly to allow his tongue to slip between them.

The younger man gave a sound somewhere between a purr and a growl. Two bodies pressed against one another as though they were trying to become one, two hearts beating frantically as they continued to kiss. Milliardo's lungs ached; his head was spinning from lack of oxygen when he finally broke away, gasping for air but smiling.

Treize held him close, dipping his head, gently kissing and teasing the soft skin along Milliardo's throat and jaw line. The blonde closed his eyes in delight, breathing in deeply, taking in the other man's alluring scent.

Suddenly his eyes flew open. He frowned and pulled away.

"What's wrong?"

""Got to get your shirt off," he panted, already starting to fumble with those annoyingly small buttons. "I can smell **her** perfume on it, and I'm not into threesomes."

The incubus laughed, a low throaty sound. "Tell me then, what are you into, dear Milliardo?" he purred as he ripped open the shirt, never even bothering with the rest of the buttons.

"Let me show you." the young man replied as he fought to pull the fabric over Treize's arms. "As soon as I get this… thing… off… you."

Finally the sleeves came free. Milliardo dropped the shirt to the floor with one last look of distain. But then his eyes caught the angry red scar across Treize's left bicep. The wound was still healing and looked painful. He felt another flash of guilt.

Noticing the look and his reaction Treize lightly shook his head. He reached out, placed one slender finger under Milliardo's chin lifting it gently. Catching the other man's gaze in his eyes, he spoke quietly, tenderly as though speaking to a child. "It wasn't your fault."

Then he dipped his head kissing him gently.

Milliardo closed his eyes as he returned the kiss, and felt himself being swept off his feet…literally.

"Bedroom." Treize whispered into his ear, carrying him toward a door across the hall as though he weighed nothing.

There was something suggestive in the incubus' voice that made Milliardo shiver with delight.

####

There were no windows in the dungeon deep beneath the halls of the chateau. The cell was lit only by heavy torches that cast dark, flickering shadows against the natural stone walls. The air was damp and cool, underlined with a foul smell of blood, decay and mold.

He was strung up in the center of the room, spread-eagled, with his toes barely touching the ground. His wrists and ankles enclosed in silver-lined manacles connected to heavy chains. The silver coating had no other purpose than to suppress his powers and inflict pain. But the constant burning ache also reminded him that he was still alive.

Like his brothers Leslie Keno was a tall and heavy built demon, or at least he used to be. By now he had lost most of that burliness, his ribs were showing and his eyes had sunken into his face. They had offered him prey to keep him alive, but so far he had stubbornly refused to feed. It gave him a tiny measure of satisfaction to at least have that much control left.

He had no idea how much time had passed since his capture. His days were spent in solitude; the dull boredom interrupted only occasionally by one of the van Ranzows. More often than not it was Konstantin, the second of the three surviving brothers, who made his way down to the dungeon to amuse himself.

Today's 'amusement' consisted of a beating with a thin flexible bamboo cane. Konstantin was very skilled when it came to inflicting pain, a skill honed, without a doubt, through a lot of practice. He knew exactly where to bring the cane down for the best effect, and never missed his mark.

Leslie pressed his teeth into his lower lips, stubbornly refusing to make the slightest sound of discomfort.

"Come on now, let me at least hear your voice," Konstantin taunted."This is getting really boring."

"Will you make up your mind? Yesterday you told me to shut up," the prisoner retorted sarcastically, earning himself an especially vicious lash across the lower back where his skin was already shredded.

His knees buckled and for a second his body weight was supported only by his burning wrists. An involuntary hiss of pain escaped his lips and he could almost imagine the sneer on his captor's face. Concentrating on the warm blood running down his back Leslie managed to push himself up onto his toes again.

"You know," Konstantin continued his taunting along with his flogging. "You should feel honored. This is the very same cell your beloved Prince spent so much time under his Lordship's guiding hands. From what I understand he had that same stubborn streak in him as you. I can only imagine how much fun they must have had together."

"And you are really getting off on it, you sick little bastard." Leslie spat.

"I'm not… a bastard!" Konstantin gave a scream of fury as his cane came down on the prisoner's back again.

_Ooops. I think I hit a nerve there._

"Are you hoping to impress 'his Lordship' by following in his footsteps? You must have done something right for him to let you play in his dungeon. But you'd better enjoy it while it lasts. From what I understand he likes his boy toys young and fresh. **You** must be getting close to the expiration date. Maybe that's one reason Sebastian was eager to get out of here. I think he must have gotten that extra portion of brain that you are missing."

The blonde incubus let out another scream of rage.

_My second hit?_

"You really **are** crazy, you know that?"

"Don't call me that either."

_Another nerve? I'm batting 500 today! _

Leslie bit his lips. Konstantin's cane crisscrossed his back driven by rage. Suddenly his knees buckled again; his head dropped onto his chest with a choked noise and he whispered something too low for his captor to understand.

"What did you say?"

The beating stopped as Konstantin circled around the prisoner.

Leslie repeated himself, even quieter this time.

Konstantin frowned and leaned closer. "What?"

"You are…a fucking idiot!" the tall demon cried out as he jerked forward as far as his chains allowed, slamming his forehead hard into his captor's face. He could hear cartilage crush under the impact.

Konstantin screamed in a mixture of pain and fury. He raised his cane again in blind wrath.

"Stop it!" another voice demanded. "I don't want you to kill him."

Christian von Ranzow appeared in the door to the cell, his blue eyes as indifferent as ever.

Konstantin glared at his brother, blood streaming from his broken nose and split lip. "Did you see what he did to me?"

"And you deserved it, for letting him bait you." Christian replied coldly. "Go get some prey. Now!"

The younger von Ranzow did not dare defying his brother. Angrily he threw aside his cane and stormed out of the cell.

###

"We should go out tonight. I don't have to be in school until eleven tomorrow." Without looking away from the computer screen Quatre reached for one of the date cookies his sister had brought him a little earlier. He frowned as he discovered that the plate had mysteriously made its way from his desk to the nightstand next to his bed.

"Uh huh," Trowa grunted as he grabbed another cookie.

The demon was stretched out on the bed thumbing through the latest issue of the National Geographic magazine.

Quatre's brows narrowed. "Those were mine, you know."

"Really? They didn't come with name tags," came the nonchalant reply

"And don't use magic in the house," the blonde grumbled as he rose to his feet to get his snack back. "My computer might blow up around my ears or something."

"It won't," the demon assured him. "Not unless I want it to."

Quatre's frown deepened into a positive scowl as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Unless you want it to?" There was somewhat of an edge in his voice. "Does that mean yesterday when I was doing some research on my family history the sudden power failure was your handy work? You really don't want me to find out more about my mother, do you?"

Trowa stuffed the entire cookie at once into his mouth and then gave Quatre an apologetic 'sorry, mouth full' smile.

The younger man just snorted grabbed the plate with a little more force than intended and stomped back to his desk.

"I really want to go back to that bar," he announced a few minutes later.

"I'll take you there when you are old enough." Trowa flipped another page to an article about slowly melting icecaps in the arctic.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Come on, I am almost 21."

"Almost 21 doesn't cut it. It's like almost winning the lottery, or almost being tall enough to ride the Matterhorn at Disneyland." Trowa reached out with his powers, stealing another cookie, but at least not the whole plate.

Quatre snorted. "Disneyland? Is that one of the 'places' you go to while I'm working?"

"Sometimes." The tall demon licked his fingers.

"Let me guess. You have a season pass."

Trowa simply smiled.

"But seriously, there was just something about that bar," Quatre turned the conversation back to the original subject. "I have never seen demons and humans mingle like that. And they all seemed quite content. You know it makes me believe that we really can all get along even though…."

Quatre broke off at the sound of footsteps in the hall, and looked at Trowa. The air around the demon was already shimmering as he changed back into the shape of the little gray puppy. Then there was a knock at the door.

"Quatre, I need that plate back. I want to finish washing the dishes." It was his sister Izza's voice.

"Hang on."

The young man stuffed the last cookie into his mouth and picked up the plate to bring it to her. Suddenly his eyes fell upon the dog leash draped over the back of his computer chair. A sly smile crossed his face as he picked up the leather lead, swung around toward the bed and snapped the little metal spring loaded hook into the ring on Triton's collar.

With the dog in tow Quatre walked to the door and opened it. He smiled at his sister charmingly.

"Those were delicious, Izza. Say, can you do me a favor and keep an eye on Triton for an hour or so? I need to run out very quickly and I can't take him."

"Umm, sure." his sister nodded as he handed the puppy off to her. "Just for a while, mind you. He is NOT going to sleep in my room."

"Most definitely not," Quatre assured her, as he grabbed his jacket and rushed out. "Just don't let him off the leash. Neighbor keeps complaining he chases their cat."

The puppy gave a little angry-sounding bark. Izza just picked him up and pulled him into her arm. "Don't worry. We will have some fun together and before you know it he will be back."

####

His footsteps echoed hard and heavy through the cell as Christian approached the prisoner. He stopped directly in front of the strung up figure, reached out and dug his fingers into full black hair. With one vicious move he pulled Leslie's head back, forcing the other incubus to look at him.

Leslie's breath came in short labored pants. One or more broken rips pressed against his lungs. He just hadn't enough energy left to heal himself between beatings. Blood stained his teeth where he had bitten through his own lips. His face was bruised and bloodied, his gaze hazy and unfocused. When Christian shook him violently he groaned in pain but his eyes managed to focus on the oldest von Ranzow son.

"Do I have your attention now? Good. Why must you keep antagonizing him? I'm beginning to think you must have a masochistic streak in you."

His prisoner tried to grin, but his bloody and bruised lips turned it into a grotesque grimace. "But he makes it so irresistible."

Christian sighed and shook his head as if to say 'this is useless'.

"I have been trying hard to keep you alive, but you are not helping, you know?"

"Oh? Forgive me, I never got around to reading the handbook on being a good prisoner, I'm afraid." Leslie broke off with a pained hiss as his captor drove his free fist into his guts.

"Shut up!" Christian's voice turned to ice.

His fingers tightened in the other man's hair and he pulled his head back so hard that another involuntary sound of pain escaped those bloody lips.

"I don't find your attitude cute. And I'm not as easily provoked as my little brother. So you might as well stop trying. Now listen to me. When Konstantin comes back you will behave, and you WILL feed. "

Leslie glared at the other incubus. "Says who?"

Christian's eyes darkened. "Don't make me force you. I assure you, you would not like it."

Those words were delivered quietly and without any passion, which made them so much more intimidating. He ran one slender finger gently along the bruised skin of the prisoner's jaw.

Leslie shivered and swallowed the caustic remark already on his tongue, earning himself a satisfied and approving nod.

"Who says you can't be reasonable?"

Silence fell for several moments, only interrupted by Leslie's labored breathing and by the metallic clinking of the chains when Christian released his hair and stepped away from him. The incubus turned and started to walk away.

"How could you do it?" Leslie suddenly asked, his voice quiet but strong. "How could you betray him? You and he used to be friends; you used to stand up for one another, fight for one another, protect one another…. How could you turn on him when he needed you most?"

Christian kept walking and for a moment it seemed as though he was just going to ignore the prisoner, but at the door he held his step.

"Did he ask you to join him?" he asked without ever turning his head.

"Of course."

There was a brief pause then a nod. "I thought so."

With that the blonde Incubus walked out of the cell, leaving Leslie behind to puzzle about that last comment. Was he just imagining things or did he hear something in Christian's voice he thought he would never hear… sorrow.

####

Quatre found himself an empty stool at the bar. He shrugged off his leather jacket before settling down. The bouncer at the entrance had given him a suspicious look, or maybe he only imagined that, but didn't actually ask to see an ID.

The young man looked around the room in a mixture of awe and apprehension. He had never seen so many differed creatures in one place. Hell, he couldn't even identify most of them.

"Can I get you anything?"

The voice snapped him from his thoughts. As he turned his head he faced the barkeeper a young man with long braided hair and unusually colored eyes.

"Umm... You got whiskey and coke?"

"Yep."

"I'll take one," he said.

"You want your whiskey on the rocks?"

"I'll take the coke on the rocks. Hold the whiskey."

The barkeeper eyed him suspiciously.

Quatre simply shrugged. "I'm the designated driver," he claimed earnestly.

"Designated by whom?"

"Myself."

The braided young man snorted but left to get the coke. A few moments later he returned with a bottle and a glass half filled with ice cubes.

"You own this place?" The blonde asked, trying to make small talk.

_I wonder if he realizes that most of his customers aren't mortals. On second thought, I don't think he's human himself._

"Nice place you got here. I think my mother would've liked it."

The bar owner blinked, apparently not sure if it was meant as praise or insult.

Quatre grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. That didn't come out the way it sounded in my head."

The other man gave an amused huff. "I like you. You are funny."

"Yeah, well. That's me, Quatre Winner, student by day standup comedian at night."

"I really do like you. It's Duo...Duo Maxwell, by the way."

The blonde nodded. "Hey Duo. Say, Heero isn't here, is he?"

"No, won't get back till the weekend from what I know. Umm...I think your friend is looking for you." Duo thrust his chin towards the entrance.

"Huh?" Quatre turned his head and ducked in his chair with a silent curse. _How did he get here so fast? The girls make lousy pet sitters._

Trowa was standing in the doorway scoping out the room.

Quatre pulled a couple of bills from his pocket, throwing them onto the bar before grabbing his jacket and heading towards the bathroom door at the other end of the room. Just as he got there the air shimmered and Trowa appeared seemingly out of nowhere

"Sorry, occupied." The tall demon was leaning against the doorframe blocking Quatre's way of escape.

"Damn it." The young man looked around. Nobody seemed to have noticed what happened or simple were used to things like this. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"I wish you wouldn't just leave me with your sisters. I'm not some lapdog that likes to be dressed up."

Quatre grinned, but at Trowa's glare he dropped the smirk. "No, of course not. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Oh, what the hell!"

They headed back to the bar together, Quatre slipping into the seat he had occupied earlier, Trowa into the one next to him.

"Everything okay?" Duo wanted to know.

"Yeah, everything is fine. Can I have another coke?"

The brunette demon looked at his companion surprised. "Coke?"

"What? You didn't think I came here to get drunk, did you?"

"I'll have a coke too, with Vodka: Gray Goose if you have it." Trowa ordered with a shrug.

"And something for you, too." Quatre told the bar owner.

"Thanks." Duo grabbed two more cokes from the fridge beneath the bar, poured the vodka for Trowa and filled himself a glass from the same bottle.

"Heero told me you helped him out against a group of vampires the other night," he said as he pushed the drinks over the bar.

"Actually, he is the one who helped us out." Quatre clarified. "He is one hell of a fighter."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"He works for you?"

"On and off."

The blonde poured some cola into his glass and took a sip while it still was foaming. "Are all your employees… umm…"

"No." Duo seemed to know what he was trying to say. "Mixed, just like the clientele."

"Mortals and demons, huh?" Trowa took a slow look around. "You really believe it will work out in the long run?"

"I have to." the braided young man grinned. "I got a 20 year mortgage on this place."

###

Sated and with a content smile Milliardo rolled over on the large bed snuggling against the warm body beside him. He nestled his head against the incubus' chest, listening to the steady thumping of the other man's heartbeat and cuddled even closer.

Treize stirred, trying to pull his right arm out from between their bodies.

The blonde suddenly tensed. His eyes flew open. "Your arm! I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. Did I hurt you?"

"Actually…no. You didn't." The incubus sounded almost surprised.

Milliardo frowned slightly as he raised his head, blue eyes focusing on Treize's bicep. An involuntary sound of awe escaped his lips. The wound had all but completely closed. The swelling had gone down significantly and the flesh around the scar had changed from angry red to a light pinkish color.

"Wow, you do heal fast."

"Usually not **that** fast," the incubus replied. He seemed puzzled by it. "Wounds caused by weapons like Nataku are fairly resistant to my healing powers."

"But your powers are strongest after you feed, aren't they?" Milliardo pointed out.

"True."

"Well, you just fed…twice. That's got to be it then, right?"

"I suppose." Treize agreed.

A smirk tugged at the blonde's lips, his face taking on an impish expression. "I know," he announced. "Let's make it thrice and see if that will completely heal you?"

The smirk turned into a wide grin as he nuzzled the soft skin at the incubus' neck, eliciting a quiet moan from the other man. He trailed soft kisses along his cheekbone, and paused to gently nibble at the delicate earlobe. Treize closed his eyes in delight. Milliardo used that moment of content distraction to climb on top of him. He straddled the tawny-haired man, trapping his arms against the bed at his wrists.

"But this time…" he purred. "I'll take the top."

"Says who?"

The incubus' eyes snapped open. He huffed as he rolled over, burying the younger man beneath his own body and got up onto his knees. Looming over the blonde, he seized both of Milliardo's wrists in one hand and pinned them down over his head with inhuman strength.

The younger man growled as he tried to buck the incubus off.

Treize just laughed and leaned in to capture Milliardo's mouth in a heated and passionate kiss. His tongue teased the young man's lips till they parted slightly, allowing him entrance.

He nipped at Milliardo's bottom lip as he broke their kiss. For a few moments he kneeled over the younger man, regarding him through half lidded eyes.

"Don't fight."

Milliardo closed his eyes with a sigh. He shuddered as a strong but gentle hand moved over his chest until it found one of his nipples. Long fingers circled it slowly before giving it little squeezes and twists. Then Treize lowered his head. His tongue flickered over the little, pink bud, sending waves of pleasure through Milliardo's body and straight to his groin. The younger man flushed, but could do nothing to stop the incubus. Soft lips enveloped the quickly hardening nub; sharp teeth grazed over sensitive skin. Milliardo's breath came in staggered pants, harsh to his own ears. He arched his back wordlessly begging for more. He writhed and moaned under the older man's talented touches, too enthralled to even notice when Treize's right hand left his chest. Suddenly something closed around his wrists with a metallic click. His head jerked up to find himself chained to the bed frame by a pair of solid steel cuffs.

A feral sound, somewhere between a growl and a hiss, escaped his lips He strained his muscles and pulled trying to break free.

Treize clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "You are going to hurt yourself."

"Then take them off."

"Sorry." The incubus dipped his head to cover Milliardo's mouth again, making him moan and melt into his kiss. "But I can't do that. I'll need both of my hands for what I'm going to do next," he purred as he pulled away.

The suggestiveness in his voice sent another wave of pleasure straight into Milliardo's groin.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 26**

He woke, the sensation of bliss still lingering in his belly, but didn't open his eyes. Instead he just lay there basking quietly in the afterglow of the sexual romp the incubus had taken him on. He could almost feel those hot kisses and gentle touches exploring his body, maddeningly soft and slow. Never before had he realize how closely related pain and pleasure could be. Those memories alone were enough to send shivers of delight down his spine.

What about Treize; was he still sleeping?

The young man reached out to touch something soft beside him…soft and warm… and furry?!

Milliardo's eyes flew open and he let out a little involuntary yelp as he found himself lying next to Snowball. The white tiger opened one eye and looked at him somewhat annoyed for having been woken from his nap so rudely. Milliardo felt the sudden urge to bring some distance between himself and the grumpy cat. But before he even got a chance to move, Treize came flying into the room. He was already dressed, his hair still slick and damp from the shower.

"What's wron…?"

The incubus swallowed the rest of the sentence, his eyes narrowing dangerously as they caught the tiger lounging on his bed.

"You!" he thrust one slender finger at the large cat. "Get out of this room!"

The animal jerked up with a snarl and slapped at the incubus' hand with one large paw.

"Do that again and I'll turn you into a fur coat," Treize warned.

For a moment man and beast glared at one another, eyes locked in a silent combat of wills. Snowball looked away first. He yawed, slipped off the bed and strutted out of the room. Treize's glare followed him all the way into the hall.

"I hate it when he does that."

"I…um… couldn't agree more." Milliardo mumbled, still trying to slow his pounding heart.

"Oh, good morning." the incubus walked over to the bed. "Breakfast is almost ready. If you still want to shower you'd better make it a quick one."

"Breakfast?"

"You didn't think I was going to send you on your way with an empty stomach, did you?" Treize leaned in, nuzzling the young man's cheek in a brief but affectionate kiss. He smelled of sandalwood and musk and just the slightest hint of mint. "You have to be starving after last night."

Now that he mentioned it Milliardo realized that indeed his stomach was growling. "I could eat a cow."

"Sorry," the incubus replied, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, as he pulled away. "We are fresh out of cows. Blame Snowball. How about eggs and bacon instead?"

"Eggs and bacon sound great." the blonde smiled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

###

By the time Milliardo got out of the shower the table was set for two on the patio overlooking the garden. The air was still cool and clear and filled with the sweet scent of roses and freshly brewed coffee. The young man inhaled deeply as he took the seat across from Treize who was reading the business section of the morning paper.

Below in the garden Snowball was basking in a patch of sunshine. The large, white tiger was making quiet noises of content as he licked his enormous paws.

"How are you feeling?" Treize put down the paper and offered Milliardo a piece of toast.

The toast was stacked not on a plate but in one of those fancy little toast racks matching the creamer, sugar bowl and napkin rings, and the napkins of course were made of cloth not paper.

"I'm fine." The blonde's eyes examined the table for a moment. "You eat like this every morning?"

"Hardly." the other man admitted. "I do enjoy taking my time over breakfast if I get the chance. But more often than not it's just a cup of coffee on the way to work. "

"Yeah… about that," Milliardo said as he put some butter onto his toast. "Do you really have to go to work today?"

"Why? Do you have something different in mind?" Treize asked as he poured his guest a cup of coffee.

The younger man smirked. "I could come up with a thing or two."

The incubus returned the smirk. "I'm sure you could," he agreed. "But unfortunately I have pretty full schedule today. Besides, it would hardly be fair of me to expect my employees to show up on time and do their work while I otherwise amuse myself, would it? But how about dinner together? I think I can fit that in. Pick me up at the spa, let's say 6:30?"

"Fine," Milliardo didn't even try to hide his pout. "I'll take what I can get. Dinner it is. I should probably head home and talk to Wufei anyway, before he mobilizes the guardians and comes looking for me."

"You didn't tell him you were going to stay out overnight?"

"I wasn't sure that I would." Milliardo took a bite of the crispy bacon and raised one eyebrow approvingly. He chewed, swallowed then continued. "I did tell him I was going to a friend's house and there was a chance that I would sleep over."

"By the way," Treize asked. "Do you have any plans for Wednesday evening yet?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Why; what's Wednesday?"

"The grand opening of my newest spa," the incubus explained as he handed Milliardo the social section of the newspaper he had been reading. "I would love for you to come."

"Newest spa? I didn't even know you owned more than one."

"Three," the tawny-haired man sighed. "I just can't keep up with the demand."

"Nice picture!" The blonde gave a impressed nod. The photographer had indeed done an excellent job. "…expecting a star studded gala…bla blah blah… I guess I'll have to send my tux to the cleaner."

"Can I take that as a yes to my invitation?" Treize asked. "I won't be able to pick you up myself, I'm afraid. But I'll send one of my drivers."

"You don't have to do that. I can drive myself, take a taxi or a limo."

"Don't be silly, Milliardo."

"Very well." As he shuffled a few bites of scrambled egg into his mouth the young man looked around. "I like your garden, by the way. Looks very…um… peaceful. But what's up with the drained swimming pool? I mean, I'm all for conserving water, but it's hard to swim in an empty concrete hole."

"I don't like swimming pools." Treize declared as he took a sip from his coffee. "They are just too dangerous."

_Right, so you bought a house with a pool to remind yourself of that fact? _Milliardo thought, but aloud he said. "Dangerous? Perhaps if you have children or throw a lot of drunken parties…"

"Dear Milliardo. Water is a great magical conduit. Have you any idea how much easier it is to open a portal between this realm and the Other World near water? A filled swimming pool is basically a written invitation for all kind of nasties."

"Hmm," the blonde grunted as he tried to wrap his mind around that idea. Wufei had told him about the demon world and how creatures traveled between realms, but he never realized that it would be this easy. "So if there is no water portals can't be created?"

"Oh no, the more powerful creatures, gods, ancient ones and high demons can create portals without the help of any magical conduit. They can come to and leave this world wherever and whenever they wish. It's the lesser creatures that require some help in one form or another. Water works best."

"Any water will do?" Milliardo asked.

"Well it depends on the amount. A puddle of rainwater or even a bathtub probably isn't big enough to create enough energy to let anything bigger than a minor fairy or other small fae through. A pool of this size however…No thanks," Treize shook his head. "I prefer not to have to deal with that…even with Snowball around."

Speaking of which… The large tiger had risen from his place on the lawn as the sun had begun to move. He slowly strolled along the path, long claws clicking on the cobblestone. Suddenly the air in front of him began to flicker like heat shimmer over asphalt, only more intense. As the animal walked into the glistering space it began to disappear; first his head then the rest of his body and finally even the very tip of his long tail.

Milliardo blinked. _What just happened? _"Where did he go?"

"Excuse me?" the incubus looked at him puzzled.

"Snowball, he just…disappeared. He was walking through the garden and poof he was gone."

"Oh," Treize nodded calmly as he looked down into the garden. "He comes and goes as he pleases. It's not like I own him or anything. He just chooses to annoy me."

"But how…"

"Remember what I just told you about portals between realms? Well, they do work both ways."

"So…what you are saying is Snowball has his own little… doggy door to the Other World?" Milliardo asked in amazement.

"Yeah, I guess you could put it that way."

"Does that mean, he is not what you would consider a 'lesser creature'?"

Treize laughed. "By no means. Snowball…his real name is Jian, is a guardian beast. One of his ancestors was a deity or divine spirit. He was born yellow like most tigers, or so I was told. It was a bit before my time. Legend has it that a tiger who lives for more than five hundred years will slowly turn white, starting at the tail. By the time I met Jian he had barely any yellow fur left "

"Five hundred years?" Milliardo's jaw nearly dropped. "That would make him how old now? Six hundred…seven hundred years?"

"Give or take a few."

"Wow. And he doesn't look a day older than four hundred."

The incubus gave an amused huff.

"He is a guardian beast you say? Does that make him something like your version of 'Wufei', just a little more furry and minus Nataku? They do seem to have the same quick temper. Though, I don't remember ever having to throw Wufei out of my bed."

###

A message from Dr. Summers was waiting for him with the desk clerk when Otto showed up to work in the morning. Apparently one of his patients, the young woman Samantha Middleton, had asked to speak to the police again, and had made it very clear that she wanted to see the Lieutenant she had spoken to the day before.

Otto checked his watch. He still had more than two hours until his arranged meeting with the Police Chief, just enough time to run down to the hospital and back. On his way to the car he called Parker and told him to meet him at the medical center.

The two of them pulled up almost at the same time.

"Anything new, Lieutenant?" the detective asked as he slipped on his jacket and fell into step next to the taller man.

Otto moved one shoulder in a shrug. "Not sure yet, but I'll take anything we can get."

"Let's hope it's not another cock and bull story. Maybe this time she will tell us that they had been abducted by aliens or something."

The Lieutenant gave his partner a warning look as he knocked at the door to Samantha Middleton's room. The young woman was sitting in her bed, looking a lot better than at their last visit. Some color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes didn't have that sunken in appearance anymore. Someone must have washed her hair, and she wore just the slightest bit of makeup covering some of the bruises on her face.

"Miss Middleton?!"

"Lieutenant. You told me to call you if I remembered something else. Well, I did."

"Really?" Otto nodded encouraging as he stepped closer. "That's good."

"You see, the nurse left me the morning paper when she brought me breakfast and I was flipping through it when I saw him."

"Saw him?" The Lieutenant echoed, puzzled.

"Right there."

She had folded the paper so that it highlighted a large black and white photograph and an article in the social section regarding the opening of a new luxury spa in south Orange County. She handed it to the Lieutenant. Otto looked at the picture before his eyes flew over the article. Parker had to get up on his toes to look over his partner's shoulder.

The article talked about the new spa, the big party that was coming up to celebrate its opening and the selected few lucky enough to be able to attend it.

Otto frowned slightly. "Mind explaining this a little further?" he asked.

"You see, I recognized him back at the warehouse, but I guess I was just so out of it that it totally slipped my mind," she was so excited the words just bubbled out of her, almost too fast for him to follow. "Until I saw the picture today."

"He was one of your captors?" Detective Parker asked. "The man in this picture… Treize Khushrenada, business owner, philanthropist, investor, millionaire…," he quoted from the newspaper article. "…is abducting people and locking them up in his spare time?"

The young woman snorted and rolled her eyes. "No, not him. I'm talking about the cute guy in the back."

She leaned forward to point at a young man in the background of the photograph, slender, blonde, maybe in his mid 20s. The Lieutenant exchanged a brief look with his partner.

"And I didn't say he was one of the abductors. He was one of the people who **saved** us. You see, I'd met him before a few days earlier. This guy … um…invited me and a friend to his place. He told us his cousin was in town and needed some cheering up. The four of us spent a few hours together, had a good time if you know what I mean."

Otto just nodded. Oh yes, he knew what she meant. "Go on."

###

"Well, I guess you were right." Otto declared after the door to the hospital room had closed behind him. "This **was** a waste of time after all."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Lieutenant." Parker replied calmly, earning himself a surprised look from his partner.

"Just what do you mean?"

"That fancy beauty salon in that newspaper article, it's the same place the surveillance pictures came from," Parker explained. "The pictures of the van taken during the attempted abduction of those two girls."

Otto frowned slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I remember Will at the desk getting the name wrong over the phone, and we were laughing about it. He had written down 'Gilded Hose' and we were wondering whether it was a store selling fancy women's undergarments or just expensive gardening equipment."

"Hmm…Maybe it's worth checking the place out, but it will have to wait until this afternoon. I'm meeting the chief in an hour. See you at the station."

He made it back with enough time left to check through some files and messages on his desk. On top was a report from the Medical Examiner. The M.E. had completed his examination of the burned body found in the ruins of the warehouse.

Otto hung his jacket on the hook by the door, slipped into his seat and reached for the thin plastic folder. He hesitated slightly before opening it. His eyes flew over the clinically detailed report, letting out a small sigh of relief when he got to the end. The body was that of a young man in his late teen But it did not, as he had feared, belong to Kyle Saunders.

He decided to call the Saunders family right away. He was sure they would welcome the news as good news, because it meant that there was yet hope that their son was still alive. Of course it also meant that the body down at the morgue belonged to someone else's son, someone else's brother perhaps. Eventually his family would have to be informed about their loss. Otto sighed. This was the part about his job he hated.

####

The man moved slowly and in deadly silence, testing the ground before every step to avoid stepping on twigs or leaves that might give away his position. His eyes moved around, searching his surroundings for even the slightest movement in the brush, his ears straining to pick up any sound that might tell him that he was not alone.

But for all of his stealth and caution he was only human, his senses no match for those of the deadly predator stalking him. The big gray and brown wolf kept his distance as it followed the man slowly, amber colored eyes alert and never blinking. They focused on the heavy double-barreled shotgun in the human's hands.

The man held his steps, as though he had noticed that he wasn't alone. A group of crows rose from a tree nearby, his eyes following them as they noisily made their way through the forest.

The wolf stirred and ducked down further. Lean muscles rippled beneath dense fur. His slender muzzle opened slightly, and then he pounced.

The man heard the noise behind him at the last moment and spun around. For a split second he trained his gun on the animal, then relaxed with a half amused, half exasperated huff, as the large wolf landed right beside him on soft paws.

"Bloody hell, Wana Chikala, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

The wolf's mouth dropped open into what looked like a canine grin. _You are moving like an elk-bull; you must be getting old._

Heero knew the sheriff could understand him, and now he also realized why. Joseph Spotted Deer didn't inherit his grandfather's werewolf genes, but the blood of his ancestors still ran through his veins, making him more receptive than normal humans.

The dark-haired man huffed again as he secured his weapon. "Not everyone can be a young grasshopper. How did you get here so fast, anyway? I thought you were calling from Wolf Mountain when we spoke last night."

_I was, _Heero confirmed. _I took the midnight flight and then chartered a helicopter to take me up the mountain. _As he spoke the wolf had started to move, with Joe Spotted Deer slowly following apace.

"Ah, that was the chopper I heard. It wasn't one of the regular sight-seeing flights, so I came out here to investigate."

_How is the pack?_

"Recovering," the sheriff replied. "One-ear has taken over the position of Alpha female. She was injured in the attack, but even with a bullet in her shoulder she led the rest of the pack back to the reservation where she knew they would be safe."

The large wolf nodded. _She is a good leader… and a fighter._

They reached the spot where Heero had left his backpack and clothes. The large wolf began to shimmer and Joe turned his back to him giving the young man at least that bit of privacy as he changed form and dressed.

"Is the cabin still off- limits?" Heero asked as he stepped into the sheriff's field of vision, still straightening his shirt. "I would like to pick up a few of my things."

"We finished our work there." Joe replied. "I sent someone to clean things up, as well."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Before you go up to the house, there is something I would like to show you. This way to my jeep."

The two men fell into step beside each other.

"So, I take it then you are planning on staying on the West Coast for a while longer? How **is** California anyway?"

"Warm." Heero replied with a shiver as he rubbed his hands across his naked arms. "A whole lot warmer than this place."

The older man laughed. "This isn't cold. You are just getting spoiled in that sunny climate."

"Says the man dressed in a warm jacket ." Heero pulled a sweatshirt from his backpack and slipped it on while they were walking.

They reached the truck and drove for a couple of miles into an area far off the beaten tourist paths. Neither of them mentioned Odin Lowe or the incident at cabin.

###

By the time he stopped his truck Joe still hadn't told the younger man what he wanted to show him. When they slipped out of the cabin the sheriff let out a loud whistle. The sound was instantly answered by a chorus of wolf howls.

Heero smiled. The pack was near…and getting nearer by the second. Moments later the wolves, led by a large gray female with one floppy and ragged ear, appeared. She had lost its upper half of the ear in an incident with a wild cat when she was only a pup. Technically, she still had one and a half ears left, but everyone just called her One-Ear.

The young man dropped to his knees, greeting the animals as they threw themselves onto him with excited bellows and whimpers. He rubbed bellies, scratched ears and banged heads for a few moments, at one point almost collapsing beneath the pile of bodies. But when he looked up Heero noticed three wolves that hadn't joined in the greeting celebration. The trio looked different, gawky with long limbs and paws still a little too big for the rest of their bodies. They reminded him of pups that hadn't fully grown into their adult shapes. He couldn't remember ever seeing them before.

Did Shei have pups this spring he didn't know about?

Heero turned his head, looking at Joe questioningly. The sheriff's face was unreadable, but one edge of his mouth curled up into the hint of a smile as he said.

"Come on, don't be shy!"

The air around the three juvenile wolves started to glitter as they began to change. It wasn't a smooth transition such as it was when Heero did it. It took them several moments to complete it; indicating that they were still rather new to the whole shifting thing. But when it was done three young…people stood before them, naked and a little embarrassed it seemed.

There were two boys and one girl, the youngest barely in his teens from what Heero could tell. One of them looked like he was of Asian descent; Japanese perhaps, the other two were Caucasian, brunette with light skin and blue eyes. He wondered if they were brother and sister, or even twins.

The girl was covering herself awkwardly as the trio disappeared behind the sheriff's pick-up. They shuffled around for a few minutes before returning, each of them dressed in a loose fitting sweat suit.

"Heero, meet Kirsten, Ryan and Takeshi."Joe introduced. "They are the newest members of the pack."

They nodded at one another and the girl, Kirsten, gave a high pitched little.

"Hi."

"Lesson's over for today," the sheriff announced. "Jump up in the back. We need to make one short stop before I take you back to the reservation."

The trio climbed wordlessly onto the bed of the pick-up. Takeshi jumped up first, then held out his hand to help the other two. Heero took the passenger seat next to Joe.

"Who are they?" he asked with a look back through the rear window as the sheriff started the truck.

"They are like you, when you first came here," Joe replied, quietly, seriously. "Remember how you felt when your powers first started to manifest?"

He did. It had been disconcerting to say the least, terrifying and confusing.

The sheriff nodded. "It's like that for all of them, and most aren't so lucky as to have someone around to explain to them what is happening to them; or how to control it. Many of those who have to go through the changes alone don't live long enough to make it to adulthood. So we try to get to them and bring them here to teach them… to train them… to show them that it is possible to live relatively normal lives."

"We?" Heero echoed. "You mean your tribe, people like your grandfather, Black Cloud? J told me everything, about Odin and Black Cloud."

"There are many of us, all around the world. We have to be careful, and we have to be fast. More often than not we are racing the Jaegers who would prefer to kill any werewolf before their powers fully develop."

The young man scowled in disgust.

"They would even kill children?" He growled in barley concealed fury as he threw another look back at the truck bed. The three teens had curled up next to each other and fallen asleep it seemed, exhausted no doubt from shifting earlier.

"Odin had brought those three…" Joe thrust his thumb over his shoulder. "Up from Salt Lake City only a few hours before the attack. They had been brought into the country a week or so earlier. Takeshi had been left at a monastery as an infant, his parents probably couldn't deal with it. He nearly killed one of the monks the first time he changed; but luckily the leader there knew the right people to contact. Kirsten and Ryan's parent's met here at… 'Camp Werewolf' about twenty years ago. They are working in South America now, helping others like them. They would have been quite capable of taking care of their own offspring, but decided the kids could only benefit from a few months out here in the wilderness."

"Do you think the hunters were after **them**?"

"I don't know. They have never before dared come this close to the reservation."

There was a long moment of silence before Heero spoke again. "Why didn't Odin ever tell me about any of this?"

"I assume he wanted to protect you."

"If knowledge is power and ignorance is dangerous, then I was in much more danger not knowing than I would have been otherwise," the young man insisted. "No, they should not have lied to me, and they shouldn't have kept things from me." _And I still have the feeling that there are things I haven't been told yet. _

The truck stopped outside Odin's cabin.

"Do you want me to wait?" Joe asked.

Heero shook his head as he slipped out of the passenger seat. "I want to stay for a while; need to spend some time alone."

The older man nodded understandingly.

"Come see me later at the Sheriff station or at my house."

"I will."

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 27**

The 'Higher Grounds Café' across from the 'Serene Rose' was a popular place amongst the spa's employees and clients. So much in fact that Treize Khushrenada didn't hesitate investing in the little coffee shop when it had run into financial problems a few months earlier.

However, there was one person Nichols hadn't expected to run into when he stopped by for his morning 'pick-me-up'.

"Luther, what the hell are you doing here?" the incubus growled at the tall man at the counter. "You should be picking the… boss up right now. He does have an appointment scheduled in 30 minutes."

"Keep your pants on," Luther replied calmly. "He called me just when I was about to leave, telling me he had a ride this morning."

"Oh?" Nichols gave the other man a questioning look, but Luther just shrugged.

"Beats me."

"The usual for you?" the barista, a college-age woman with dark hair and olive skin, smiled at Nichols.

"Please," he returned the smile and she flushed ever so slightly.

Nichols had heard rumors that the coffee shop was popular not only with its customers but also with the part-time job-seeking crowd. For every opening they got hundreds of female applicants. Perhaps it wasn't that surprising, considering the number of hot-looking incubi that came through here every day. Hell, their combined aura alone should be enough to keep every female in the vicinity in a perpetual state of arousal.

His cappuccino was still being brewed when a silver corvette pulled up directly in front of the spa.

Luther let out a quiet whistle. "Nice car. If I ever win the lottery I'll get myself one of those."

Nichols huffed and then frowned slightly as he saw Treize Khushrenada climbing out from the passenger seat of the car, then leaned back into the still open door, exchanging a few words and what appeared to be a long kiss with the driver.

Luther gave another whistle. It was unusual for the prince to display this kind of affection in public.

Paying quickly for his drink, Nichols grabbed it and hurried across the street just as the sports car drove off. He caught up with the tawny-haired incubus as he was about to ring the bell. Treize had of course his own set of keys, but even though he usually arrived before the salon opened, he rarely was the first one to get there.

"Good morning, Sir."

"Ah Nichols. Good morning." Treize's polite smile seemed a bit wider than normal. His gaze fell upon the cappuccino in his assistant's hand, as the brunette incubus pulled out his own keys. "That smells good."

"Would you like me to get you one, Sir?" Nichols thrusts open the door and waited for the prince to enter.

"No, thank you. I had breakfast at home today. Is there anything I need to take care off before my manicure?"

"Not that I am aware of." Nichols replied as the two men crossed the lobby. He couldn't help but notice the slight change in the incubus Prince's demeanor. There was a bounce in his step he was sure hadn't been there the day before.

"You look… well rested, Sir," he remarked, his words carefully chosen.

Treize's lips curved slightly. "Come upstairs with me. I want to show you something."

Puzzled but without any question, the brunette followed him up to the studio apartment, waiting for the prince to unlock the door and enter first.

Wordlessly Treize slipped out of his sports coat and took off his tie, hanging them carefully over the back of one of the chairs. He unbuttoned the powder blue shirt he was wearing beneath just far enough to slip it over his right shoulder.

Nichols raised his eyebrows, a sound of surprise escaping his lips, at the sight of flawlessly unmarred skin where only yesterday an ugly, slowly healing wound had marked the prince's arm.

"Lady Une came by my house last night." Treize spoke before he could ask any questions.

"I didn't realize she had these kinds of powers."

"She doesn't. But she satiated my hunger. After she left I had another visitor." The incubus smiled and paused for the effect. "Do you remember the young man I mentioned to you, Milliardo Peacecraft? The one protected by the Long guardian? I could tell from the start he wasn't your average mortal, but now I'm convinced he is far, far more than that."

"It is true then."

"Beg pardon?" Now it was Treize's turn to look puzzled as he slowly re-buttoned his shirt.

"My report!? You asked me to do some research, my Prince, if you recall? I learned that the Long guardians have been rumored to have kept a number of half- demon scions and demons under their protection throughout the centuries. As for their motives, one can only speculate. Perhaps to…" once again Nichols chose his words carefully. "… **influence** them for their own purposes. I had contacted Lady Rebecca asking if she had any more information on the matter. She told me she was going to send Une with some kind of ancient scroll that might explain a few things."

"The scroll, yes…" Treize remembered locking it away in his safe. "I'm afraid with everything that has been going on I haven't gotten around to reading it…or your report, yet. I'll see to it later today."

"Of course, my Prince," the other incubus nodded. " Will this be all for now?"

"Yes, thank you. Let me know when Kendie gets here."

Nichols gave another nod. "Yes, Sir."

Kendie was one of two beauticians the salon had on standby to give hand massages or a quick manicure touch ups to any client who might request it.

###

At the south side of the lobby, across from the relaxing waiting area were two, semi private alcoves, each fitted with a comfortable massage chair, a table matching the rest of the décor and a smaller chair on wheels for the manicurist. During business hours both stations were usually manned, but this being still an hour before opening, only Kendie had arrived for the appointment with the spa's owner.

Treize Khushrenada was reading the morning paper while the young woman worked on his left hand.

He never was much for making small talk; some people just didn't need to hear themselves talk all the time. She stole a quick glance at his face before turning her attention back to his cuticles. He was handsome and polite, almost to the point of being old fashioned, she had noticed. He was the kind of man who would open doors for a woman, and stood up to pull out her chair at the table, something that had almost gotten out of style. She was almost sure he also brought flowers to every date, and paid for dinner whenever he went out with someone. He always looked like he had stepped from a fashion magazine, well dressed… and well groomed. He was confident enough to have his nails manicured and his eyebrows shaped without it threatening his masculinity. He had sparkles in his eyes and a smile that could make any woman swoon. But for all of that he was still single. At least that's what she had read in the newspaper. Maybe it was true; the real cute ones are always gay! She gave a deep sigh.

The tawny haired man lowered his newspaper giving her an inquiring look. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, thank you." She could feel her cheeks burn and quickly started to rummage in one of the drawers for an emery board.

She tried to concentrate on her work as she files every one of his fingernails to perfection. Perfection, yes that was another detail Treize Khushrenada seemed to be keen on. From how the spa looked to the way his employees interacted with their clients, everything had to be perfect. Not to mention, of course, the appearance of those employees themselves. Each and every one of them could have easily doubled for a male model. She couldn't help but wonder if those incredibly good looks were some kind of job requirement, like big boobs at Hooters.

Suddenly Treize Khushrenada tensed. For a moment there she thought she had hurt him, but then she noticed that his eyes were focused at something behind her back. She turned her head, following his look toward the entrance, where a dark haired, dark tanned man was climbing out of a silver-gray sedan.

"Kendie, Dear," the spa's owner suddenly smiled at her. "Why don't we take a little break here? Go across the street, get yourself a cup of coffee or something. I'll send someone to get you when I'm ready to finish this."

"Yes, of course, Sir." She quickly put down her things, rose to her feet and left. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he wanted her out of the way.

###

The spa was still closed, according to the black and gold sign at the entrance. There was the button of an electronic buzzer or bell beneath the sign, and he was still deciding whether or not to ring it when a young woman left the building and hurried across the street. He caught the door before it could slam shut behind her, even as his eyes followed her.

Sergio Ventuno had insisted on him taking along two of his own men. Ortega didn't think it was necessary. He really didn't expect there to be any problems, but who was he to argue with the Italian?

"Wait here!" he told the two gorillas as he stepped slowly through the wide door.

The inside of the salon continued the same theme of black and white marble set off with gold trimmings, soft plush and leather. He looked around. The lobby was nearly empty, except for a young guy pushing around a mop and a man whose face he instantly recognized from the photo he had seen in the morning newspaper.

The spa's owner was sitting in a high backed leather chair in an nook at the other side of the lobby just left of the reception desk, a open newspaper spread over his lap. Slowly but steadily the Latino walked toward him.

"Mister Khushrenada?" he spoke as he approached.

The tawny haired man raised his head, looking him over thoroughly. "We are not open yet."

"I didn't come here for a massage."

"Really? What a surprise." Treize Khushrenada leaned back in his chair, blue eyes bored and disinterested. "We are not taking job applications either."

Ortega stopped in front of a little table with a white marbled countertop and several drawers, across from the spa's owner. "I'm not here for a job either."

"Then tell me, what is it you **did** come here for…?"

The Latino tightened his jaw but tried to remain calm. He couldn't say he particularly cared for the attitude displayed by the other man. _Spoiled, rich guy_, he figured, _used to getting everything he wants whenever he wanted it._

"I'm here on behalf of a client who is hoping to come to an agreement with you regarding a real estate purchase you recently made. My name is Quincy Ortega."

##

The introduction was redundant as far as the incubus was concerned. He had recognized the Latino the moment he had climbed out of his car. When Howard had first told him that someone was leaning on him, trying to frighten him into selling his store, he had also given him the man's name. After that he, Treize, had Nichols do a bit of a background check on the man.

Ortega was a crook, and not even a very big one. He had grown up in foster homes and orphanages, never too long at one place. He got himself into trouble as a teenager…more than once and eventually ended up in juvenile hall. There, he nearly killed a warden, which earned him the ire of the other guards, but also the respect of his fellow inmates.

After his release he became more careful but also more dangerous. Rumors started spreading that he was dealing in things mortals… even criminals usually didn't like to be associated with. The fact that he had control over a group of black vampires showed that he had at least some kind of power. But walking in here with only two men as backup, mortals nonetheless, proved also how ignorant and overly confident he truly was. Treize was sure the man had no idea who he was dealing with.

"Will you come to the point…Mister Ortega? I do have a full schedule today."

Treize could see the other man's jaw clench… again.

"Alright. No need to waste each other's time, I suppose. My client wants to buy that bookstore you purchased a couple of days ago."

"First off, let me make something perfectly clear. I'm not used to dealing with underlings," the incubus replied calmly. "No offence to you personally, or your negotiation skills of course," he added. But the way he delivered those words made it perfectly clear that they were meant to be nothing **but **offending. "If your 'client' wants to talk business with me he can call my assistant to set up an appointment. But that said, I have no intention whatsoever of selling that store."

"You haven't even heard the offer yet?" Ortega somehow managed to restrain his anger.

"I don't need to hear it, since I'm not selling."

The Latino snorted. "When people say 'I'm not selling.' I hear ' Give me a better price.' You are a business man, you are in this for the money. I can understand and respect that."

"That…Mister Ortega is where you are wrong. I did not buy that store to make money," Treize replied.

The other man was beginning to look really annoyed. "Really? Then why **did** you buy it?"

The incubus smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. "I like to read. You should try it someday, it can be very… intellectually fulfilling."

Ortega's eyes narrowed. "I think you don't realize who you are dealing with," he growled.

"A book about anger management and self-control perhaps?" Treize suggested, sounding not the least bit intimidated. "I believe we are done here. Leave the spa now."

With that he turned his attention back to his newspaper.

The Latino was practically steaming from his ears. He leaned forward, supporting himself with both hands on the little marble covered table that held Kendie's manicure tools. "Trust me," he pressed through his teeth. "You do not want to make an enemy of me."

The incubus looked up again, blue eyes focusing on the other man.

"Take your hands off my furniture…" he told his visitor in a dangerously polite tone of voice as he rose to his feet. "Please."

"Or what?" Ortega snorted.

He was about the same size as Treize, although he probably had a good twenty pounds on the incubus. And… judging from the bulk beneath his left arm, he was carrying some kind of concealed weapon. He had to be feeling very smug right now, thinking that he and his two goons had the upper hand. Of course little did he know that the spa really wasn't as empty as it looked.

Nichols had been making phone calls from his office. By now, Treize was sure, he had noticed that something was going on. Luther and Leigh were always around, like good bodyguards, even if they weren't always visible. And Sebastian…well someone had to give the boy extra credit for inventiveness.

The incubus suddenly moved. He reached out so fast that it seemed all but a blur, grabbed Ortega by the back of the neck and slammed him face first into the stone surface of the table he was leaning over. Then, as Ortega howled in pain and fury, Treize slipped one hand beneath the Latino's jacket, pulling out the handgun he was carrying and throwing it carelessly out of reach.

The goons out in front, attracted by the commotion stormed into the spa. But before they had even cleared the door Luther appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, pressing the nozzle of his handgun against the taller thug's head.

"Wiggle your ears and I'll blow out your brains," he growled.

Sebastian, who had been busying himself near the door, spun around. His mop swooshed across the floor faster than humanly possible, knocking the second gangster's feet out from under his body. The man dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, dazed for one brief moment. The blonde incubus didn't wait for him to recover. He turned his mop over, pressing the end of the handle against the man's throat..

Leigh was next to them half a second later, sporting a .45 caliber magnum. He disarmed both of the thugs, slipping their weapons into the pocket of his own jacket. By the time Nichols appeared on the scene everything was already over.

Treize picked the Latino up, turned him around and slammed him onto the table again with his back. Ortega's face was a bloody mess, his nose probably broken, his lips bloodied and swollen. He moved his arms and legs, flopping like a fish on dry land, helpless against the arm holding him down with inhuman strength.

"I have been trying to be as polite as I possibly could. You should have left when I gave you that chance. I don't like bullies, and I like bullies who are threatening my friends even less…" Treize's voice was getting colder and sharper with every sentence. "The only reason I haven't ripped your heart out is that you have caught me in a good mood. That and because I think it would be very inconvenient for the cleaning crew to have to come in and clean up all that blood from the tiles, so close to opening time. But make no mistake, Ortega. If I see your face again, I will kill you."

The incubus pulled Ortega to his feet and shoved him toward the door. "Take you goons and get out of here, now. But do me one favor. Tell your 'client' this town isn't big enough for both of us."

Treize gestured for Sebastian and Luther to release the other two men, then watched with narrowed eyes as the trio clambered back into their car and drove away. He was certain that he had sensed some kind of power from Ortega when he had touched him, but he wasn't sure what exactly it was that he had felt.

Then the serious expression dropped and a smirk crossed his face as he turned toward Sebastian.

"Nice move there. Quick thinking."

The young incubus grinned. "Thanks."

"Hmph." Luther snorted. "He just stole that from 'Coming to America'. I saw that movie, too."

Sebastian rolled his eyes at him.

"Nichols," Treize turned his attention toward his assistant. "Would you mind telling Kendie I'm ready to finish the manicure now. She is over at the coffee shop, waiting."

"Of course."

"Sebastian, put that mop of yours to use and clean up the blood before she gets back. Women are somewhat squeamish about that kind of stuff, from what I understand. Where did you find that thing anyway?"

The young incubus grinned. "Cleaning crew must have left it out. I was just going to put it into the closet when I saw them coming. One could pretty much smell the trouble radiating from him."

"That wasn't trouble," Leigh, who had just picked up Ortega's gun from beneath one of the chairs in the waiting area, replied dryly. "That was cheap cologne and old pizza."

Treize gave a little smirk as well, then clapped his hands. "Gentlemen, back to work."

####

"Who the hell were those guys," one of Ventuno's men -Franco or Frances, Ortega never was very good with names- asked as they drove away from the spa. "I have never seen anyone move that fast."

"Not who, what," the Latino growled.

"What?" the other man, driving the sedan, asked with a blank look of incomprehension.

Ortega simply ignored him as he pressed a tissue against his still bleeding nose. His upper lip was so badly swollen that he looked rather grotesque.

_Treize Khushrenada, I don't know who or what exactly you are, but I swear this isn't the end; not by a long shot. Nobody makes a fool of me. _He grinned viciously and hissed because his bruised lips hurt at the motion.

"You look like hell. You should get some ice on that face soon." Franco/Frances suggested.

"Bite me!" Ortega growled just as something in his pocket started to beep.

He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on.

"Yeah?"

He listened for a few moments. "That was fast. You said it would take a couple of days."

The person at the other hand said something and he snorted. "No, I wasn't complaining. That was a compliment. I'll see you in an hour. Yes, of course I have the money."

As he slipped the phone back into his pocket Ortega looked up. "Drop me off at my place," he told the driver.

"You are not coming to see Mister Ventuno?"

"Later, I have something else to take care of first."

"He is not going to like it, you know. He's already got a problem with your attitude."

"Really, geez? I'll cry myself to sleep," Ortega grunted sourly. "Now step on it, I don't have all day."

####

"Your tea, my Prince." Nichols set a tray with a steaming cup and a small bottle of honey on the low coffee table in the apartment.

"Tea?" Treize looked up from the report he was reading and raised one eyebrow. "Are you trying to put me to sleep?"

"Too much caffeine isn't good for you, Sir."

"Says who?"

"Say all the research studies."

"Those studies, even if they were worth the paper they are written on, are made by mortals for mortals, I'm sure." Treize said with a hint of sarcasm. "I seriously doubt anyone had studied the effects of caffeine on a demon."

"I have." Nichols replied dryly. "After his fourth cup Leigh usually becomes jumpy and can't sit still. And you tend to multi-task even more than normal…"

"Fine," the prince sighed. "Apparently this is an argument I'm not going to win. I'll have tea… today."

"Excellent choice, Sir." the other incubus grinned. "And may I remind you of your meeting with the people from "Solar Town' regarding the installation of solar panels on the roof of the new spa?!"

"Right," Treize nodded. "When is that?"

"At 3:30. I'll have Luther waiting for you at 3."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Umm…yes, I was wondering if I can leave early today. Let's say around 6, after the meeting with the caterer?"

Treize looked at the other man, surprised and a little worried. Nichols never…ever… asked for time off. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Nichols nodded. "I just want to meet with a realtor; check out a few apartments I have been looking at online. My place just isn't big enough for two people. Sebastian needs his own room. He isn't exactly a poster child for tidiness, and if I have to pick up after him one more time before I can bring someone home, I'm going to kill him."

Treize smiled softly. "Sorry about that. I could put him up with Luther and Leigh. But quite frankly, the idea of what the three of them might come up with if left to their own devices, scares the hell out of me."

"Yeah," Nichols chuckled."Not a risk I would want to take either. He is not that bad, really. And once we won't step on each other's toes every time we turn around I'm sure we will get along much better. So…may I go?"

"Yes, of course. And if there is anything I can do to help…? I do know a few realtors myself."

"Thank you, I think I've got it covered."

The incubus prince gave a nod. "Good luck, and let me know how it goes."

As the other man left he turned his attention back to the report in his hand. It was more or less telling him the same thing he had heard earlier from Nichols' mouth. The Long guardians, and perhaps other guardian organizations as well, appeared to have been protecting several demons or half breeds throughout history. It came as somewhat of a surprise but not completely unexpected. After all, the guardians weren't demon hunters who had devoted their lives to seek out and destroy every otherworldly creature on sight.

_Although_, Treize thought with a hint of sarcasm, _I'm not quite sure our Little Dragon got that memo_.

Still the question remained. What made those selected few demons, and Milliardo in particular, so special that they required their own personal Guardian? Nichols' report held one possible explanation. His research spanned nearly two millennia and included the names of four demons which, he was sure, had been under Guardian protection. The only common denominator he was able to find between them was that each of them, in one form or another had been mentioned in prophecies.

_Prophecies? _The incubus frowned as he looked at the still sealed scroll on the table._ Is that what this is about?_

Picking up the roll of paper, his mother had sent him, Treize paused thoughtfully. Sometimes, he wasn't sure just how she did it. The Succubus lady rarely ever left the other realm, and yet she always seemed to have an ear to the ground. Hell, she seemed to know what was going on in every corner of the Mortal World or the Other World at any given time. And that alone was something that made her, mother or not, a very scary person. The incubus prince took a sip from the slowly cooling tea before he finally broke the seal and removed the band that held the scroll closed. The paper unfurled, revealing some kind of ancient text. Not that he had expected anything else.

As he began to read it he soon realized that he was familiar with the text. Which was not that surprising either. As a child he had to learn most of the ancient prophecies and important texts by heart, his instructors had seen to that. Lord Khushrenada was a man who strictly believed in the importance of a good education; and even more strictly in the good old saying of spoiling the child by sparing the cane. He, Treize, had quickly learned not to argue or complain… or show any sign of pain, for it would only lead to more severe punishments.

He shook his head to rid himself of those memories then frowned as he concentrated on the scroll again. It couldn't be. The one whose coming had been foretold for generations; anticipated by some but feared by most, the harbinger of death and destruction, the flame that was going to ignite the conflict leading to the end of this world and bring upon the beginning of a new one…Milliardo?

No, it just…it was impossible. The young man just didn't seem to fit the picture of a mad man out to destroy the world. Sure, he had unusual powers, he was strong and quick tempered, but he was also sensitive. His smile was as infectious as the common flu and he had a charisma that made people want to be around him. Hell, if he could bottle that personality; politicians would be buying it by the truckload. He was intelligent and skilled, a incredibly talented artist.

_As one would expect from the offspring of a muse_, Treize finally realized, _… and War_.

One reason why people like Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan or even Hitler were so successful was that they knew how to inspire the masses to fight…to kill and to die… without regrets. That took charisma.

And of course it would also explain Milliardo's enormous powers. No wonder Lian felt the need to keep an eye on him. _Did I make a mistake when I stopped him? No, of course not._

The tall incubus rose to his feet and stepped to the window. A unpleasant feeling of misery settled in the pit of his stomach.

_Milliardo! _he sighed.

How could he be so… jovial with such a burden on his shoulders. It seemed almost as though he wasn't even aware of it.

_I don't think he knows, _Treize suddenly realized. _I don't think they've told him what his destiny is. _

Suddenly the incubus prince straightened, his jaw settling in an expression of determination. He knew what he **had** to do… But he also knew what he was **going** to do.

Treize walked back to the table and rolled up the scroll, closing it again with the same tie. He walked over to the still open wall safe, locked the paper inside and replaced the painting covering the safe, before pulling out his cell phone. He hesitated for just one moment, then dialed a number he hadn't called in a long time; a very long time. In spite of the time-difference someone at the other end picked up after only the second ring.

"Wéi." a female voice said.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 28**

The parking lot was nearly empty; the neon sign above the entrance still unlit when Wufei Chang stopped his car beneath one of the large Sycamore Trees near the entrance to the Rainbow Pond. His eyes narrowed as he climbed out of the vehicle. It didn't look like anyone was here.

_Where is he? This'd better not be some kind of game he is playing._

Suddenly the door to the bar swung open, and a young man with dark, braided hair waved him closer.

Wufei had never met Duo Maxwell personally, but he recognized the Sidhe at once, from Milliardo's description as well as from the information the Guardians had collected on him.

"Come in," Maxwell told him. "He just called me. He will be late; some kind of traffic mess on the 405."

Wufei huffed. Only a demon would be arrogant enough to use the 405 during rush hour and think he wouldn't be stuck in traffic. He followed the other man, looking around the bar as he stepped through the door.

There was one table in the center of the room where someone had already taken the chairs down. Wufei assumed it had been done for his benefit, and made his way toward the table.

"Do you always open this early?" he asked, just to break the silence in the room.

"No. But I do occasionally, on special request," Duo Maxwell replied. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"A beer maybe."

The other man nodded. He disappeared behind the bar and returned a few moments later with a bottle of perfectly chilled ale.

"You need a glass?" he asked as he threw a coaster onto the table.

Wufei shook his head. As far as he was concerned a beer was a beer was a beer, no matter if one drank it from a bottle, a fancy glass or a three cent paper cup. He opened the bottle and took a long swag. The beer was cool and smooth and underlined with the slight taste of something he couldn't quite indentify.

"Good stuff." He nodded approvingly at the bar owner.

"The Seelie do know their ale," Duo Maxwell agreed."I'm willing to swear you won't find better brews in any realm."

Wufei looked down at his bottle and frowned. Was he really drinking beer brewed by fae folk? Or was the other man trying to pull his legs. "Are you serious?"

"I kid you not. They don't call them Seelie for nothing. Fairies consume more ale on average than the whole of Germany during Oktoberfest. Hell, from what I've heard they were the ones that **introduced** the mortals to the whole brewing business way back when."

Their little conversation about the history of beer brewing was cut short as the door opened. Treize Khushrenada walked into the bar as though he owned the place, giving Duo a polite nod.

"Thank you for doing this for us. I owe you two favors now."

"Don't fret it." The younger man just waved the remark away. "What are you going to drink?"

The incubus looked at Wufei's beer bottle then back at the bar owner. "I'll have whatever he has."

As Duo walked away Treize turned toward the young Chinese man, inclining his head briefly. "Guardian Chang! I'm glad you could make it."

"How did you get my phone number?" Wufei tried hard not to let resentment or anger bleed into his voice.

"Never mind that." The incubus slipped into the seat across from him. "Now you have mine, too. The number I called you from is that of my personal cell phone."

"You said this is about Milliardo."

"That's right." Treize paused as Duo Maxwell returned with the beer, set it down in front of him and retreated back behind the bar where he started to polish glasses. "He showed up at my place yesterday… and ended up spending the night. This morning, to my surprise I found that my wound, that I sustained fighting you, had completely healed."

Wufei's eyes narrowed slightly. "If you have called me here simply to gloat…"

A soft sound of annoyance escaped the incubus prince. "Has anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue?"

"So is humbleness from what I understand," Wufei shot back.

"Touché!" Treize raised his beer bottle tipping it toward the younger man before taking a sip. "But I wasn't gloating, I was simply getting to the point."

"Which is?"

"It took me a while… and a little help. But I finally figured it out. I know what… who Milliardo is."

Wufei's jaws clenched slightly.

"No wonder you are trying so desperately to keep him away from anyone who might realize it. All kind of things could happen when people were to find out. Hell, for all intents and purposes I should kill him." There was no emotion whatsoever in the incubus' voice.

The younger man tensed, but before he could say anything Treize raised his hand.

"Relax. I said I **should**, not I will. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here with you; I would be out there looking for him."

"It isn't his fault," Wufei's voice was sharp but at the same time a little tired. "Milliardo didn't ask for any of this."

"No one ever does," the incubus pointed out. "That's the funny thing about fate. It is chosen **for** you, not **by** you."

"You believe in destiny, then?"

Treize gave a little huff, but it sounded more bitter than amused. "I think you and I, we both know a thing or two about prophecies and destiny and everything that comes with it. Whether you believe in it or not doesn't matter as long as others do. However, there is one thing I do not believe in, and that's coincidence. Until I have figured out why our paths crossed at this point in time, I **will** keep a close eye on him."

"Why? So that you can exploit him to further your own ambitions?" Wufei accused. After all, the demon had already admitted to using Milliardo's powers to heal his own wounds. "Try to take advantage of him and I will kill you."

"No you won't," the incubus prince replied perfectly calm. "You are a guardian, Little Dragon, bound by your laws and regulations, and I have done nothing to warrant 'execution'. You went after me because you thought I was attacking Milliardo. He told me as much. But now you know better, and have no cause to fight me."

The young man clenched his teeth. As much as he hated to admit is, the demon was correct. He could do nothing unless Treize gave him a reason.

"Face the truth, you can't stop Milliardo from seeing anyone he wants to see, be it me or anyone else. He just isn't the kind of person who would take kindly to that kind of invasion into his personal life."

"Why are you here telling me all of this, if not for the bragging factor?"

The incubus prince sighed. "You really do have a very low opinion of me. I happen to like Milliardo, and I think it would be in his best interest if the two of us could just get along, rather than trying to jump at each other's throat."

"I don't trust you!" the young guardian growled.

"I'm not asking you to be my friend, Little Dragon. Hell, I don't even care whether you like me or not," Treize huffed. "But this isn't about you and me. This is about Milliardo and the possibility that one day he may turn Napoleon or Hitler on us and starts blowing up the world around our ears. I believe we have a better chance to prevent that from happening, if we work together."

The frown on Wufei's face turned into a positive scowl.

"And why would you care whether or not this realm is destroyed?"

Treize gave another huff. "Are you really so naïve as to think that if a new war between demons and mortals were to break out the conflict would be restricted only to this dimension? If, or should I say when it comes to war everyone will have to choose sides, mortals, demons, half bloods, Ancient Ones and even Gods. The last time it happened it nearly wiped out every living thing…That's why they call it Apocalypse… with a capital A."

"The last time?" Wufei echoed. "There was a prior war? I've never heard of such a thing."

"Exactly my point." Treize replied dryly. "History is recorded by those who survive, but only as long there are any survivors to begin with."

Silence fell across the bar for a few long moments and the incubus prince rose to his feet. "I **will **protect Milliardo. You can either help me or stay the hell out of my way. Think about it, and let me know.

He started to walk away, but held his step and turned his head after a couple of strides. "One more thing. He needs to know. You tell him or I **will**."

With that the incubus prince walked over to the bar. "What do I owe you for the beer?"

Duo Maxwell simply shook his head. "Here at the Rainbow Pond all peace talks come with one free round of beverages," he declared with a smirk.

"Is that so?" Treize replied, smiling ever so slightly. "Well then I will have to spread the word."

###

Wufei continued glaring at the door, even after the incubus prince had left the bar.

_Who the hell does he think he is?_ He thought.

"Another beer?" Duo Maxwell asked as he came over to clear the table.

The guardian shook his head. "I should probably be on my way, as well," he said as he drained the last of the beer from his bottle.

"He is right about one thing. The two of you fighting one another won't help anyone."

Wufei looked up at the braided young man, slightly surprised. "You think I should trust him?

"Trust him?" Duo Maxwell gave a pensive sound. "I'd say that depends. He is a demon, and he is unpredictable and deadly. During his time he probably has slain more of his own kind than a whole division of guardians combined. He didn't get to where he is now by playing it nice. But he is also a white vampire and as such, like many nobles of the old races, lives by a strict code of honor and respect. So if he promises that he is going to protect Milliardo, you can trust that he will do so; or die trying."

The young guardian remained thoughtfully silent.

"Then of course, you might want to consider how he managed to gather a whole army of likeminded incubi around him," Duo Maxwell went on. "He is a fighter but also a natural born leader who doesn't ask anything of his men he isn't willing to do himself. And he is dedicated; dedicated to his cause, his men, his friends… his lovers. I've heard a story from the East Coast during the Prohibition where he went after a group of local mobsters. They had tried to get to him by going after his then girlfriend, but failed. The following night half a dozen distilleries and warehouses filled with booze, went up in flames. And then said mobsters started to disappear, one after the other. The bodies were never found, or maybe there just wasn't enough left to be found, after he was through with them."

"That doesn't make him a hero," the young Chinese man said as the bar owner paused. "just a ruthless killer."

"Yes, but he fights for what he believes in, and that makes him dangerous as well as admirable to many. But back to your question. I suppose you shouldn't ask whether you can trust him or not, but if you can afford not to. Because make no mistake. His offer was an olive branch as much as it was a warning extended to you. Get in his way and he will get rid of you."

Wufei glowered. "He is welcome to try. But he might find I'm not that easy to get rid of."

The bar owner gave a little, one-sided shrug. "I just call them how I see them."

"You seem to know a lot about him… for an ordinary bar owner."

Duo Maxwell gave another shrug. " I like to know what's going on around me. Which brings up a totally different subject, Guardian. I assume you and your people are aware of the recent black vampire activities?"

"Yes," the young Chinese man nodded.

There had been reports of attacks in the south. Nothing major, but enough to warrant some investigation. "A few of our men went down to Tijuana to take care of the problem."

"I'm not talking about Tijuana. You have a problem much closer to your doorsteps."

"What?" Wufei blinked. He had no idea. Had he been so focused on everything going on with Milliardo that he didn't realize what was going on right under his nose?

"I don't usually get involved in these kinds of things." Duo Maxwell picked up the empty beer bottle and started to wipe down the table absentmindedly. "But whenever there is a sudden increase in such activities it's a sure sign that something big is going to happen. It usually makes you guys nervous and you start poking around, which on the other hand makes my customers nervous. Can't run a bar if my customers go into hiding, if you know what I mean?"

"Did you hear anything specific?"

"Not really, except that someone has been buying up properties and isn't being very nice about it. That someone might be using those vampires as foot soldiers. They are a dime a dozen and aren't very particular about who they work for."

"Yeah, but they need to be fed."

"That," Duo replied as he walked back behind the bar. "Is what I meant when I said you have a problem."

"I will check it out. Thanks." The young man nodded as he rose to his feet.

_He is right. _Wufei thought on his way out the door, heading back to his car. _That would be a problem. _

A large number of vampires in town would mean they would start killing and turning people. Missing people and dead bodies would get the police's attention. Most cops, like most other humans, had no idea about the supernatural and how to deal with it. A clash between them and a group of vamps could lead to a lot of bloodshed.

_Damn it. I need to report this to Master O; talk to the elders. Maybe it would be best to change my travel plans. This really is not a good time for something like this to happen._

The young man sighed as he climbed behind the wheel of his car.

_Don't I already have enough on my plate with Milliardo and now the incubus princeling to worry about? Could he possibly be behind those attacks, maybe just as a way of distraction? But then, I'm sure he wouldn't have to rely on black vampires. As Maxwell pointed out, he does have a whole army of followers at his disposal. _

Wufei started the ignition and rolled down the windows; even in the shade the car's interior had heated up quite a bit.

_A olive branch wrapped in a threat, huh? _he thought sardonically. _I wonder why he even bothered? Milliardo was with him last night. I'd figured that much already when he didn't come home all night after our little scrimmage and talk yesterday. He could have just tried turning Milliardo against me…against the guardians, if that's what he wanted. But he didn't. Do I dare hope his intentions are sincere and honorable? A gentleman, demon? Oh give me a break. I'd rather believe the Angels are going to win the World Series this year. _

The young man pulled out of the parking lot and made his way toward the freeway. Traffic wasn't as bad southbound as it was going north, flowing slowly but steadily_._ At one point he got stuck behind a large eighteen wheeler, but he didn't even bother trying to pass the slow moving vehicle. His mind was too busy sorting through hundreds of thoughts and theories to worry about getting home a few minutes sooner.

_I hate to admit it but he is right about one thing. The possibility of Milliardo living up to his prophecy is a real danger, and it scares me more now that I have come to realize how great his powers actually are. I realize that I was born for one reason and one reason only; to carry Nataku so that I could be here to protect Milliardo…or stop him, if it ever should come to that. _The thought hurt, but Wufei knew that it would be foolish not to consider the possibility. _And then there is one more thing we agree on. Milliardo needs to learn the full truth. And __**I **__should be the one to tell him. He'd never trust me again if he was to find out from someone else that I was still keeping secrets from him. But I can't just walk up there and drop the other shoe on him, either._

By the time he reached the apartment complex Wufei had made up his mind. He pulled into his designated parking spot and turned off the engine. But instead of getting out of the car he reached for the cell phone in his pocket. He found the call he had received earlier from Treize in his log and quickly pushed the call back button before he could change his mind.

"Yes?!" the incubus answered, his voice smooth, reserved and polite.

"This is Wufei Chang. I need you to give me 48 hours."

There was a moment of silence.

"I told you to call me when you'd made up your mind. There was no time limit attached."

"No," Wufei shook his head. "I mean I need 48 hours to talk to Milliardo. I need to find the right moment to bring it up."

"That sounds acceptable, I suppose."

"Don't get me wrong. I have no intention of being your 'friend'. But you are right that Milliardo won't take advice regarding his personal life from me, and I can't stop him from seeing you. However, I can promise you this. Hurt him, and I **will** kill you; the consequences be damned! "

There was another pause, longer this time, as though the warning had caught the incubus by surprise.

"That sounds like…"

"A threat?" The young man growled. "Good. Then I think we understand each other."

###

"Hmm!" Treize blinked and looked down at his phone with a hint of bewilderment. "I'll be damned if I'll ever understand them."

"Understand whom?" Nichols, who had been in the office when the call came in, asked.

"Mortals!" Treize slipped the phone back into his pocket. "…and their way of complicating relationships."

_**If you hurt him, I will kill you! **__It sounds like… _A ghost of a smile touched the incubus prince's lips. _…our little guardian dragon has a bit of a crush on Milliardo, himself. Not that I can blame him. _

"You know," he said directed at his assistant. "Considering how little time they have, you would think they would seize the opportunity to find a lover when it comes along."

"Maybe it's because their life is so short that they want to be sure to spent it with the one person right for them?!" Nichols pointed out.

Treize huffed. "And when exactly did you become a psychologist?"

The other incubus smiled politely. "If you knew all the hidden talents I have, you would have to give me a pay raise."

The incubus prince gave another, amused sound. "I assume you were talented enough to reschedule the meeting with the Solar-town people, then?"

"Tomorrow at noon," Nichols confirmed. "I told them you were considering a few more last minutes proposals and suggested they might want to consider adjusting their own bid on the project accordingly."

Treize raised one eyebrow as he looked up from his desk. "But we haven't any other proposals."

"I know that, and you do, my Prince, but they don't."

"And not to mention their bid was quite acceptable."

"Yes, but even acceptable can always turn into more acceptable," Nichols replied, earning himself a slight cluck of disparagement.

"You are being stingy."

"Just another one of my many talents," the brunette incubus smirked.

"Alright. What else do I have on my calendar today?"

"Menu tasting at the caterers."

"Oh…right…that was today, wasn't it?" Treize gave a pensive sound. "And we can't postpone it, I assume?"

"We could always serve sushi at the grand opening."

"I'll take that as a no," the incubus prince sighed. "When do we have to leave?"

Nichols checked his watch. "Half an hour."

"Very well. I have to make a phone call. Make sure Leigh has the car ready on time."

"I'll see to it."

As his assistant left the office Treize pulled out his phone once again, dialing Milliardo's number.

"Hello there," the blonde greeted him with a kind sultriness only he could master. "Do you miss me already?"

The incubus laughed quietly as he leaned back in his chair. "I missed you the moment I got out of your car this morning," he replied. "But that's one of the struggles of life I'll just have to learn to live with."

This time it was Milliardo's turn to chuckle. "How was your day so far? Did you do anything interesting?"

"Mostly the same as usual. But I did take the time to have a beer with your guardian dragon."

Milliardo's chuckled turned to full blown laughter. Obviously he was taking the comment for a joke. "Yeah? And how did that go?"

"We both survived." Treize replied dryly, then put a apologetic tone into his voice. "Listen Milliardo, about dinner tonight…."

"You can't make it," the other man guessed. "Something suddenly came up."

"I'm sorry. It wasn't something that just 'came up' . It was on my schedule all along, I just had completely forgotten about it. It just shows that I can't think clearly when I'm around you."

"Sure, blame it on me." Milliardo huffed but didn't sound quite as upset as he led on.

"Will you forgive me?" the incubus purred. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about tomorrow?"

"Lunch?"

"Umm…we would have to make it brunch…or a late lunch, let's say 1o'clock? Pick me up at the spa and I will be all yours."

"For the rest of the weekend? We could go somewhere together."

"Until Saturday morning. I have somewhere else to be later on."

"Fine." the blonde sulked. "I'll take what I can get. But I get to choose where we have lunch."

"Deal." Treize agreed. He didn't even realize that he was smiling. "I'll be looking forward to it."

###

"This is it." Detective Parker declared as he pulled up in front of the posh spa.

This was their second stop after finding that the 'Gilded Rose' wasn't open for business yet. Luckily some guy working on the landscaping outside that salon had been able to tell him about the other spa owned by the same person.

"Looks fancy," Otto remarked as he climbed from the unmarked car and looked around.

"Looks ridiculously expensive," his partner corrected. Through the large glass windows he checked out the reception area. "If they don't even have a price list on display somewhere it's a sure bet that mere mortals can't afford the place."

Otto was tempted to agree, but then he hadn't the slightest idea what one would pay for something like a full body massage, seaweed wrap or mud bath to begin with. He had never considered himself as what people these days referred to as metrosexual.

He stepped through the door, slowly looking around as he did so. There were several women sitting in the waiting area, laughing and sipping champagne from tall, gold-rimmed glasses. It didn't look like they seemed to mind the wait.

Music, very low and very Zen, was playing from some well hidden speakers. On the other side of the reception area doors were leading to the pool, private baths and individual massage rooms. A tall, young, and incredibly handsome man dressed in a pair of shorts and a white sleeveless shirt, stepped out of one of the rooms and walked…no glided towards the waiting women. His slightly pale skin stood in sharp contrast to his raven-black tousled hair. He had muscles in all the right places without looking bulky. Maybe he worked out, or it was just what massaging people all day long did to you. Otto couldn't help but notice how good he looked as his eyes followed the young man as he passed by. And, he noted, he didn't look any less gorgeous from behind.

"Bingo!" Detective Parker announced suddenly.

Following his partners look across the room, the Lieutenant instantly knew what he was referring to. Behind the large, marble covered reception desk stood a blond, young man Otto recognized at once from the picture in the newspaper.

Blue eyes studied them as the two police officers approached the desk, as though the young man was trying to determine whether they were paying customers and worth his time, or not.

Otto made the decision easier by pulling out his shield and ID. "Lieutenant Fisher," he introduced himself. "This is Detective Parker. May we have a few moments of your time?"

"Police?" the young man asked. "What did I do?"

That question set off a few alarm bells in the back of the Lieutenant's brain, although he had to admit it wasn't quite as suspicious as the traditional 'I didn't do it!' line. He made sure to keep his voice polite and professional as he replied.

"We just have a few questions we would like to ask you."

"As long as we don't have to go anywhere," the young man shrugged. "I'm still on the clock."

"Thank you." Otto nodded as he looked at his partner, who pulled a 6x8 photograph of Samantha Middleton from his pocket, holding it up in front of the blonde.

"Do you know this woman?"

There was a brief flicker of recognition in those steel-blue eyes, too brief for anyone less trained to notice. But the reaction didn't escape the lieutenant.

The young man hesitated, looking from one cop to the other before finally admitting. "Knowing might be too strong a word. I've met her, though, a few days ago."

"When?"

"Last weekend, maybe Friday night. I don't remember for sure. She and a friend of hers, and a friend of mine had a little… um…get together."

"Relax," Parker told him. "We are not with Vice."

"Then, if I might ask, what is this about? Did she make some kind of accusation against us? I assure you, she was paid. Or wait…don't tell me she is underage, because she said she wasn't."

"Nothing like it," The Lieutenant assured him. "Miss Middleton was kidnapped a few days ago."

"Kidnapped?"

This time he didn't even blink. Either the young man was a hell of a liar, or he really had no idea. Otto decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"No offence or anything, but who would kidnap a hooker… and why?"

"That is what we are trying to figure out."

"So you are talking to all of her Johns?"

"And to the Franks and Williams and Daniel's, too." Parker replied wryly. He could be funny, if he wanted to.

The young man smiled, showing off a set of pearly white teeth that made him look like he could star in a toothpaste commercial.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you anything useful. But I really only met her that one time. I do hope you find her, though."

"Oh, we already did."

###

The first thing he noticed when he stepped out of his office where the two men talking to Sebastian. They seemed out of place, but not in a threatening way, like Ortega and his men had been. It took the incubus prince less than two seconds to identify them as some kind of law enforcement officers.

Treize Khushrenada walked toward the reception desk with long even strides. "Is there some kind of problem, Officers?"

They both turned in unison, looking him over.

"And you would be?" the taller of the two wanted to know.

Treize put on a polite smile. "I'm sorry. My name is Treize Khushrenada. I own this spa."

"Right," the other cop nodded. "And the one at Oak Creek."

"You are well informed," the incubus replied. "Is there something I can do for you, Officer…?"

"Parker, Detective Parker, and this is Lieutenant Fisher," Parker replied, "We were just asking your employee a few questions regarding…"

"…a traffic violation," the Lieutenant finished the sentence quickly.

"Traffic violation." Treize raised one eyebrow in a mixture of sarcasm and amusement. "They are sending two plain clothed officers for that? I'll have to be careful."

Otto regarded him with a businesslike look before changing the subject.

"I'm kind of glad we met, Mister Khushrenada. That gives me a chance to thank you."

Treize's expression went from amused to surprised. "Thank me?"

"Yes," the Lieutenant confirmed earnestly. "Thanks to the surveillance camera shots you provided us with we were able to identify the car used in the attempted abduction."

"Oh, yes. But there is really no need to thank me. Sending those pictures to the police just seemed like the right thing to do after my security chief made me aware of them."

"I wish more people would be as civil minded. Most don't want to get involved these days or are too afraid to do so."

"Well, you might say I'm not like most." Treize smiled a little, but it barely reached his eyes. "I find that it is in everyone's best interest to help law enforcement. We can't let criminals intimate us. If we all just do our part the world would be a much safer place, wouldn't you agree?"

"Amen to that," Otto nodded and offered his hand. "But thank you, anyway."

The incubus prince looked down at the outstretched hand, hesitating but then took it and shook it firmly.

"Allow me…" he then said, still smiling. "…to offer you both a complementary spa treatment, redeemable whenever you feel a bit stressed out, for you and your significant other."

"Thanks, but I'm not married," Parker declined politely.

Treize's smile turned into a smirk. "Perhaps the girlfriend then…or boyfriend?"

The detective opened his mouth again, but this time Otto beat him to the punch. "We do appreciate the offer, but we are not allowed to accept any kind of gift while we are on duty. Someone might construe it as a bribe."

"That's too bad. But I do understand." Treize nodded. "And I hope you don't think that was my intention."

"Of course not. Good bye, Mister Khushrenada."

###

"I don't like him," Parker grunted as he and Otto climbed back into their car.

"Because of his 'boyfriend' comment?" The Lieutenant asked, slightly amused.

"Maybe that too," his partner snorted. "But there is just something about him. Did you see the look in his eyes when he was talking about everyone doing their part to stop crime? And he is loaded…. I mean loaded with a capital L. That watch on his arm, probably five figures, and the suit he is wearing could feed a small 3rd world nation for a week."

"You don't like him because he is rich?" Otto raised one eyebrow and put on his seatbelt.

Parker tapped the blinker and pulled into the traffic lane. "It's always the rich guys that turn into dangerous vigilantes."

"'Oh?" The Lieutenant frowned slightly. "Who exactly are you referring to?"

"People like Ironman…and Batman… you know."

"Those are comic book heroes," Otto reminded him with a smirk. "Besides, can you imagine him wearing tights, with his underwear on the outside?"

The two men looked at each other and burst into laughter. It felt good, really good.

###

Eyes narrowed, Treize Khushrenada watched the unmarked police car drive off. He could feel someone approach from behind and knew it was Leigh without looking over his shoulder.

"Those two could be dangerous."

"Would you like me to take care of them?"

"Leigh," The tawny haired man turned, an expression of gentle disapproval in his voice. "Not every problem in life can be solved with a gun."

"I wasn't planning on using a gun." the big incubus replied dryly.

"Nichols sent you to tell me the car is ready?"

Leigh gave a silent nod.

"Give me two minutes," Treize told him as he walked over to the reception desk. "Traffic violation?" he asked, directed at Sebastian."I happen to know you don't own a car."

The young incubus looked around, lowering his voice as he said. "They were here about one of those mortals we got out of that warehouse."

"What?" Treize asked, alarmed. "How did they…?"

Sebastian told him about the hookers Nichols had brought home and how one of them had been amongst those people in the warehouse.

"She recognized, you? Why didn't you come to me or Nichols?"

"I didn't think she was lucid enough to recognize anyone. What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. I will take care of it. But from here on, let's be more careful."

"Yes, Sir." Sebastian nodded.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 29**

"Wufei?!"

Milliardo's voice sounded somewhat distorted over the phone. Wufei figured it was the new, stronger wards interfering with the reception. He had come home a good two hours earlier to an empty apartment, with no sign of his 'landlord'. Of course he could have called Milliardo himself, but the last thing he wanted was for the other man to think he was trying to keep tabs on him.

"Yeah. What's up?" he replied, and then added innocently. "Where are you, anyway?"

"On my way home now. I was meeting with someone regarding that charity art show I am going to participate in. I told you about it, didn't I?"

"You did," Wufei confirmed. He remembered the conversation vaguely.

"Anyway, you got any plans for the evening yet? My dinner date canceled on me. So I was thinking maybe we can go somewhere together, instead?

_His dinner date? The incubus? Did he call off their dinner date to give Milliardo and I a chance to talk?_ Wufei wondered somewhat surprised and at the same time impressed. _Probably not. I might be giving him too much credit there._

"How about staying home and ordering take-out instead?" he suggested. "There is something we need to talk about."

There was a moment of silence at the other end then he could hear Milliardo take a deep breath.

"Alright, tonight we will have take-out and talk," the blonde agreed. "But only if you promise to go out with me this weekend. And I don't mean going to the movie theater at the corner and having pizza across the street afterward. We are going to hit some bars and maybe a dance club, get drunk and have fun."

Now it was Wufei's turn to hesitate. He was almost tempted to ask why it was necessary to get drunk in order to have fun, but in the end he bit his tongue.

" Alright, I can live with that."

"Promise!" Milliardo insisted.

"I promise," Wufei replied somewhat exasperated.

" Great. I will be home in about 30 minutes. Think about what you want to eat."

"Okay. See you then." The younger man mumbled before hanging up.

He sighed as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. _That was the easy part. Now comes the hard one. _

####

"Is there anything else you would like me to take care of before I leave, my Prince?"

Nichols looked questioningly at the older incubus who had just finished signing the contract for the caterer they had decided on for the Grand Opening gala.

Closing his fountain pen meticulously before putting it into its holder on the desk, Treize looked up at his aide.

"No, I don't think so. I'm about to head home myself." The incubus prince replied.

Now that his dinner with Milliardo had fallen through, he was planning on spending the evening at home with a good bottle of wine and a book. It wasn't often that he found time to indulge in small luxuries like that.

"Oh?!" He suddenly remembered something. "Did you cancel my dinner reservations at 'Mastro's Steakhouse', and order the birthday cake I asked for?"

"Yes, Sir." Nichols nodded. "I had Sebastian take care of it."

"Then I suppose I'll see you in the morning. Good night."

"Good night, my Prince."

The dark-haired incubus retreated with a slight bow. He entered his own, adjacent office briefly, to pick up his leather jacket before heading for the garage.

"You're leaving already?"

Sebastian's voice reached him when he was almost at the door.

"I have an appointment with a realtor."

"I want to come," the younger incubus declared firmly.

"You are still working."

"Diego can take over the desk. His 6 o' clock appointment canceled her two hour massage."

"But…"

"I want to go. After all I'll be living there, too. I should get at least a vote as to the kind of place we are getting."

"Beggars can't be choosers. You are not even paying rent."

"Then I'll start paying rent." Sebastian shrugged.

He was kind of glad the subject had come up. He had intended to talk to Nichols about that anyway. A few days ago he had received his very first paycheck. Not that it was a fortune or anything, but for the first time in his life he had actually earned money, rather than having it handed to him. He had bought some groceries and taken Leigh and Luther and a few of the other guys he had become close to, out for a beer that night. It had gone a long way in making him feel like he wasn't just sponging off of others. The next step, of course, should be for him to actually learn to take care of himself. And since the prince wasn't willing to let him live on his own yet, paying his share of the rent was the least he could do.

"Fine," Nichols finally sighed in defeat. "Go, clear it up with…the boss."

####

"Alright, so what do you want to talk about?" Milliardo asked as he set the basket with the garlic bread down on the table.

He tried hard to keep any uneasiness out of his voice, but couldn't help but remind himself that the last time Wufei decided that they 'needed to talk' was when he learned that he was some kind of monster his own mother wasn't willing to deal with.

_Be fair, _a little voice in his head pointed out. _That's not the reason she gave you up. It was to protect you. Not every demon is a monster, just like not every human is fit for sainthood._

Wufei didn't answer right away. He brought over the salad he had thrown together while Milliardo had gone to pick up the rest of their meal, soup and pasta, at the Olive Garden. As he set the bowl down next to the bread basket he looked up at the blonde.

"I'm sorry, Milliardo."

"Sorry?" Wariness crept into Milliardo's voice. He opened one of the take-out containers as he looked at the guardian questioningly. "About what?"

"I know I promised there wouldn't be any secrets anymore. I should have told you this before, but I was afraid you weren't ready… to learn everything at once, I mean. I wanted to give you some time to adjust before…"

"Dropping the other shoe?" Now the blonde didn't even try to suppress the anger in his tone.

"I suppose."

Wufei just dropped his gaze, effectively taking all the wind out of the other man's sails, and Milliardo sighed.

"What is it you haven't been telling me?"

'This might be a little difficult to explain," the younger man rubbed the back of his neck as he settled gingerly into one of the dining chairs. "I assume you know of prophecies and oracles and such."

"Like Nostradamus and his predictions?"

"Well, yeah in a way, I guess. There are many humans born with powers that give them certain foresight. It can reach from as little as feeling unease about something that might be happening, over foreboding dreams to clear predictions like those of Nostradamus," Wufei nodded. "And then there are oracles, divine beings whose only purpose is to foretell things to come; make prophecies."

"Why?" Milliardo asked as he continued to open the plastic containers.

The younger man blinked at him.

"I mean why do we want to know those things?"

"So that we prevent bad things from happening."

The older man thought about that for a moment whilst he filled his plate with lasagna. Then he shook his head.

"That doesn't make sense. If the oracle can see the future, it knows what is going to happen. If we were to prevent it we therefore would change the future, wouldn't we? And the oracle would have predicted that 'new' future, wouldn't it?"

"Not necessarily," Wufei shook his head as he reached for the Ministrone soup. "You see, the future isn't written in stone, there are always several different outcomes to every situation. When the oracle sees the future it sees all of the many different possibilities. Which of those possibilities becomes reality in the end depends on our actions and reactions."

"Like one of those 'Choose Your Own Adventure' books." Milliardo noted as he took the first big bite of pasta.

"More or less, I suppose." Wufei nodded.

"Okay, I get it…I think. But what does this have to do with me?" Milliardo's voice was still laced with caution.

The younger man hesitated again for a moment. "Long…very long before you were ever born, the Oracle of Time, one of… no, **the** most powerful oracle, made a prophecy regarding the offspring…" he paused to reach for a printed piece of paper he had put earlier onto the counter, and handed it to Milliardo. "Here, I made a printout of it in modern English if you want to read for yourself."

The blonde frowned as he reached for the paper. His eyes flew over the text, recognizing his mother's and his father's name in the first paragraph. he looked up, bewildered.

"This is about me?!"

Wufei just nodded.

Milliardo turned his attention back to the paper, reading it once… then a second time. He could feel the blood drain from his face and the lasagna suddenly tasted bitter in his mouth.

_"… cause men to pick up their weapons and slay one another…. bring upon the last great conflict_… Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Remember what we just said about the future not being written in stone and alternate possibilities? This prophecy is only the worst case scenario; it doesn't HAVE to happen."

"Yeah? Maybe I would believe you if you wouldn't look so damn scared right now," Milliardo snorted. He pushed away his dinner plate, suddenly not hungry anymore.

Wufei looked away. "Maybe I am scared, but for you, not of you, Milliardo. I do believe in what I said and I will do whatever I can to prevent this prophecy from coming true."

"Can you? Prevent it, I mean? Apparently my mother didn't think she could. That's why she turned me over to the guardians, isn't it? This might sound weird, but why didn't you guys just kill me back then?"

His friend looked at him as though he was suddenly speaking some alien language.

"I'm just saying, it would have been easier… safer, wouldn't it?"

"How can you even think something like that?" Wufei shook his head. "This isn't about easier. You were a child…an innocent child for god sake."

"An innocent child that could grow up into a monster powerful enough to destroy this world," he pointed out.

"We don't know that for sure!"

There was a long moment of silence as Milliardo thought things over in his mind, then he suddenly looked up. "You said you wanted to wait before telling me this… What changed?"

"Something we had feared and tried to avoid for a long time," Wufei admitted. "Someone else found out about you."

"Who?"

"Treize Khushrenada. Your powers which had been sealed when you were an infant are manifesting. The seal is weakening and you have become able to use those powers, as you have noticed. But this also means that other beings… demons will be able to pick up your aura and identify you as not being human. And then there are some, like the incubus prince, who know about the old texts and prophecies and are smart enough to put two and two together…"

"And that could be dangerous?"

"Potentially," the guardian nodded. "There might be those who want to use your powers for their advantage. But also others who are afraid of your powers and would rather kill you than let you become, what they perceive to be a great danger." _Is that what the Incubus meant by '_ _Whether you believe in destiny or not doesn't matter as long as others do.'...?_

"Treize wouldn't harm me, I'm sure of it," Milliardo replied, his voice very confident.

"That's what he tried to assure me, too."

"Just what do you mean?" Milliardo frowned, then suddenly it hit him. "The two of you really met today, didn't you?" _And here I thought he was just trying to be funny._

"Yes." the younger man nodded. "It wasn't my choice but I think it might have been for the best. He suggested that between the two of us we have a much better chance to safeguard you."

"Between the two of you?" the blonde echoed, then huffed. "Does this mean you are putting aside your plan to kill one another? How ironic is that? I thought I was supposed to inspire men to pick up their weapons not to lay them down," he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"He is a demon and I still don't trust him, but he seems sincere in his desire to protect you. Besides, this isn't about him or me; it's about you…," Wufei broke off when he realized that he was actually paraphrasing the incubus prince.

Milliardo just swallowed and managed to choke out a somewhat muffled: "Thanks."

He was silent again staring down at the table in front of him, musing. Wufei gave him all the time he needed, without pushing the conversation. When Milliardo looked up again there was something in his eyes that looked resolute, as though he had made a decision.

"I guess we can't put the genie back into the bottle, re-seal my powers and go on how things were before?"

The younger man shook his head. "It took 13 of the Long elders to put up that seal 24 years ago. Today I don't think we could find 13 guardians anywhere powerful enough to perform the spell again. You have already grown too strong."

Milliardo nodded as though he had pretty much expected that. Then he looked at Wufei. "Between you and Treize, do you think you are powerful enough…"

"To protect you?"

"No." The blonde shook his head. "To stop me. If I ever were to… I mean if I became the thing mentioned in that 'prophecy' would you be able to stop me? You have got Nataku and he has… his own sword; that should do it, shouldn't it?" his voice turned almost into a whisper. "I don't want to hurt anyone… and as sure as hell, I don't want to hurt **everyone**. I want to be sure that there is someone who can prevent me from doing so."

Wufei swallowed, then nodded with as much conviction as he could muster. "I promise, I won't let that happen."

"Good…. Good! What are friends for, right?" Milliardo managed a little, lopsided grin. Then he rose to his feet, walked into the hall and grabbed his leather jacket from the coat hanger.

"Milliardo?!" Wufei's voice sounded more than just a little troubled.

The older man gave him a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, I'm fine. I just need to be alone for a bit. I'll take a ride and be back later."

"What about dinner?" the guardian asked carefully.

Milliardo shook his head. "Not hungry right now. I'll have something when I get back. But don't let that stop you. No need to wait up for me."

He slipped into his jacket, then into his shoes, and left the apartment. Even after the door had closed behind the young man he could still feel Wufei's eyes on his back.

_He is worried about me._ He walked toward the private elevator and hesitated for just one moment before pushing the button to call up the car.

####

"Will you stop that!" Nichols had grabbed Sebastian by his left arm pulling him back beside him and away from the real estate agent, as she turned away from them to check something in the apartment brochure she was carrying.

The woman was in her mid 30s, brunette , with little laugh lines around her eyes and cute little dimples that showed when she was smiling, or laughing. Something she had been doing a lot tonight, thanks to Sebastian's boyish charm and wit which he was putting on as thick as cream on a Boston Cream pie. She was obviously smitten with the younger incubus.

"I can't help it." Sebastian shrugged. "I'm hungry."

"Then go and find something to eat." Nichols' voice was all but a snarl.

"Like hell." the younger man snorted.

He was convinced that Nichols was going to pick the apartment with the tiniest bedrooms he could find, just to spite him, if given that chance. In fact, the flats they had been looking at so far resembled glorified cages more than apartments. It was almost laughable that mortals were paying such outrageous sums of money to live in these little cement boxes

"I'm sorry," the realtor looked up, her face somewhat flushed, her eyes slightly dilated. "I don't think any of the apartments on my list are equipped with a Jacuzzi or hot tub. But that doesn't mean you couldn't install one yourself when you live here."

"Darn the luck," Sebastian sighed and gave her another little grin. "And I was hoping you and I could test the tub… just to make sure everything is working, of course."

She blushed a little more and averted her eyes coyly. "As I already told you, I'm a married woman."

"And that is a problem…argh!" Sebastian swallowed the rest of the sentence and yelped in pain as the other man's heel came down on his left foot…hard.

Nichol's eyes widened in feigned shock. "Oh, I'm sorry. How clumsy of me; that must have hurt. Try walking it off, outside…in the fresh air."

He grabbed Sebastian by the shoulders, prodding him toward the front door and pushing him outside with moderate force.

"And don't you dare come back in!" he hissed before closing the door behind the blonde, then turned back toward the realtor with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Is he…okay?"

"Ah, yes, he is fine." he assured the young woman with a smile. "He is tougher than he looks. Now if I'm not mistaken we were going to look at the master bedroom."

###

Sebastian snorted and mumbled something under his breath that sounded like a vague threat as he limped slowly along the sidewalk. After a few painful steps he stopped to turn. His eyes fell upon the house across the street; moving first over the building, then across the front yard. It wasn't an apartment building like the one he was standing in front of, but a much smaller duplex, the size of a one family dwelling. The house was split into two identical parts, with two separate entrances that mirrored one another.

A thoughtful sound escaped the young man's lips. He honed in on the black and red 'for rent' sign like a dog on his favorite toy and crossed the street quickly, ignoring the ache in his foot. Attached to the wooden sign was a small box filled with fliers. He grabbed one of the black and white leaflets and read it quickly.

Two unit duplex, 1 bedroom, 1.5 bathrooms per unit, living room with dining area, large, homely kitchen, 1 car garage, all modern amenities included… he read, his eyes brightening with every line. _Bingo!_

The young man hurried back across the street and ripped open the door to the ground level apartment with such force that he startled both the realtor and Nichols. The two of them had just walked out of the larger of the two bedrooms.

Nichols threw the other incubus a glare that might have killed a lesser man. Sebastian just ignored the murderous look.

"I've got it!" he waved the real estate flyer in his hand. "This just sounds perfect."

Nichols' gaze changed from angry to wary. "I thought I stepped on your toe, not on your head? What are you mumbling about?"

"Oh, shut up and read this." Sebastian pushed the leaflet into the brunette's hand.

The incubus frowned but started to skim over the text, his expression turning more pleased the further he read.

_Two separate units, two separate entrances… Hell, he is right this does sound perfect. No more dusty shoes on my coffee table… no more dirty dishes stacking up in the sink when I come home… no more walking in on Sebastian and his prey in __**my**__ shower… And yet, we would still be living under the same roof, close enough for me to keep an eye on him. My prince can't argue with that. _

Nichols looked up. He had noticed the logo of the Real Estate company on the flyer.

"You are selling the duplexes across the street as well?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes, but… The rent would be a bit higher than what you wanted to pay," she pointed out.

"I do realize that. " The incubus nodded. _But it would be worth every penny. _"Can we take a look at the house while we are here?"

"I don't have the keys with me."

"But you could get them, couldn't you?" Sebastian asked.

She hesitated. "Umm yes…I suppose but…" She threw a brief look at her watch, obviously concerned about the time.

This time it was Nichols who put on the charm, giving her a dazzling smile that made her flush again.

"You don't know how much we'd appreciate it."

"Well, I guess I could be back in an hour," she offered. "If that's convenient."

"Very convenient," he assured her, his voice all but a purr.

An hour was perfect, actually. It would give Sebastian time to find something to eat. That way he wouldn't try feeding on her when she came back, before they even had a chance to sign the lease.

####

Milliardo wasn't sure how long he was driving or where he was heading, but eventually found himself down by the ocean. He drove the Corvette as far onto the beach as he could without fear of getting stuck in the fine sand, lowered the top and reclined the driver seat.

The sun had almost complete set and only a few last streaks of orange light spread across the slowly darkening sky. The evening breeze had picked up and there was a definite chill in the air. It was not cold enough yet to make one shiver, but rather a nice reprieve from the heat of the day. There were very few people on the beach; only a couple walking their dogs near the water's edge and a group of surfers packing up their boards. Further up on the boardwalk tourists were checking out stores or waited outside restaurants for a free table. A pair of security guards from a private security company drove slowly by in their patrol car, making sure everything was alright, or perhaps just enjoying the evening.

The young man closed his eyes and for a few moments just sat there, listening to the sounds of the waves breaking on the shore and the cries of seagulls soaring above them. Everything was peaceful and beautiful.

_Why would I want to destroy such beauty_, Milliardo thought. _Why would __**anybody**__ want to destroy it? But maybe the answer isn't as simple as that. Maybe I should ask myself, what would it take to make me actually want to destroy this place?_

_It doesn't have to happen, _he reminded himself. _At least that's what Wufei said. And yet, I can tell he is worried it __**might**__. Do I really have that kind of power? Sure, I have been able to throw Wufei off me, and zapped Treize a few times without even meaning to, but that's mainly due to the amulet, right? Being able to 'heal' Treize didn't seem so bad a power to have, but once again it's not something I actually controlled. It just happened. And then… those other times… _he thought of the motorcycle accident and the day when he brushed the vase off the counter in his bathroom. Not even Wufei had been able to explain what had happened. _Hell, he is younger than I am; he doesn't have all the answers either. I wonder, if anyone actually has?_

Milliardo continued watching the waves break on the shore. Only when the orange ball of the setting sun had completely sunk behind the horizon did he start his car and turned it toward the road. Still musing the young man headed towards the Pacific Coast Highway. He had driven for only a few miles when his stomach started to churn.

_No wonder,_ he thought. _I haven't eaten dinner yet. _

The young man was still considering whether to just keep driving and eat once he got home, or to stop at one of the many roadside restaurants for a quick meal, when he suddenly realized that it wasn't hunger that made his belly tighten but dread. It started as the unsettling feeling one might experience while standing in line to ride a new and especially crazy rollercoaster, then turned into the sense of anxiety that accompanied important tests and job interviews. But in the end it all concentrated into one big lump of fear and one single word jumping into his mind. Treize!

For a split second Milliardo saw the image of the incubus prince being attacked by someone or **something**. He felt the blood drain from his face.

With shaking hands he turned the steering wheel and pulled to the side of the road. He managed to pull out his cell phone and dial the by now familiar number without dropping it.

_Please, pick up! _

_####_

Treize Khushrenada was sitting in his library over a novel he had started to read ages ago. An open bottle of wine and a half empty glass sat on the little table beside the heavy leather chair. Crackling flames from the fireplace flickered gently, giving the room a cozy and peaceful feeling. In front of the fire, stretched out on a thick rug, Snowball was sleeping like a big, lazy cat.

The incubus reached for his wine, as he turned the page. His fingers had barely touched the glass when the atmosphere of peaceful tranquility was suddenly broken by a buzz. He glared at the ringing cell phone on the table, then let out a sigh as he put down the book and reached for the phone.

"Yes?" he asked calmly.

There was a big sigh of relief at the other end of the line.

"Treize, you are alright. Thank god."

"Milliardo?" The incubus prince frowned. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing." The younger man gave an almost embarrassed laugh. "Just me being silly, I guess. Say, are you still at work?"

"No, I'm home. Why?"

"Do you mind me coming by for a bit… just to talk?"

"No, of course not," Treize replied, still frowning. " But are you sure everything is alright? You' re sounding…"

He broke off as Snowball's head suddenly jerked up. The white tiger roared and jumped to his feet, dashing out of the library and into the living room in an instant.

"Hold on!" the incubus set down the phone and reached for his weapon as he cautiously followed the large cat.

Snowball was facing the windowed wall to the patio; his ears laid back, fangs exposed. The roar had turned into a vicious snarl, directed at something outside in the dark.

Treize sensed the movement in the garden more than he saw it. Then suddenly something the size of a fully grown gorilla on steroids, threw itself against the window. The beast crashed into the ward-reinforced security glass and bounced off, only to jump back to its feet, shake it's head and try again, but this time with the assistance of two similar creatures.

Security glass, in general is designed to stop bullets, not rampaging ghouls. Even the wards wouldn't be able to stand the onslaught for long.

The blade in Treize's hand flickered to life. Blue eyes darkening as he summoned his powers.

###

Through the still open connection Milliardo could hear noises, low and thumping. Suddenly there was the sound of glass shattering, followed by a roar and a clearly inhuman scream.

"Treize?!" he yelled into the phone as though he was hoping for some kind of response.

His heart was pounding in his chest and his stomach twisted. He threw the phone onto the passenger seat without turning it off. As long as he could hear the distant sounds of battle he knew that Treize was still alive…still fighting.

Milliardo started the car again, grabbing the steering wheel with shaking hands. He checked the road, pushed the gas pedal to the floor and made a U-turn over a double yellow line. At that moment he didn't care whether he broke every traffic law on the planet or not.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 30**

Leigh had just ordered a second round of drinks when the alarm went off. The sound was infrasonic, too low for human ears, but to the incubus it might as well have been a tornado siren. He exchanged one long look across the table with his brother before jumping to his feet.

Luther swallowed a curse. He pulled a few bills from his pocket, none smaller than $50, and threw one of them on the table. Then, without bothering to wait for the change, he hurried after his brother.

The engine of the heavy, black Harley Davidson came to life with a thundering roar. The moment he felt Luther's weight on the back of the bike Leigh drove off.

It had been a long time... a very long time, since someone had been brazen enough to attack the prince in his homestead. Leigh's mind was racing. The security glass and wood-paneled, all steel doors combined with his wards should have stopped any mortal and most demons cold. The fact that the alarm went off however, meant that his defenses had been breached, and that translated into trouble... potentially big trouble. For a moment he wondered whether he had made a mistake in estimating the power of the wards or that of a potential intruder.

_Unless of course, _the large incubus thought, _there was no intruder at all. Maybe Whiskas just didn't realize the patio door was closed and walked right through it. _

He had done it once before, about twenty years earlier, earning himself a scorched tail and some serious burns in the process when he triggered the wards.

_One would think that even a divine beast would learn from that kind of mistake._

_###_

The wards fizzled out just seconds before the heavy glass crumbled, and at the same moment every electric light in and around the house went out. Treize blinked at the sudden darkness, but it took the demon less than a second to adjust his eyesight. The power outage was not a flaw in design, but rather one of the safety features implemented when designing the house.

The solar lanterns lining the garden and patio were still burning, illuminating whatever was out there, whilst keeping everything inside the house blanketed in darkness.

For a moment Treize thought he saw a tall, slender figure dressed in black in the distance, but perhaps that was only his imagination. He had no time to ponder about it. The first ghoul crashed through the opening in the window, a bloody and scorched mess, but with a determination that bordered on madness.

Snowball jumped…no flew through the air with a roar, meeting the creature head on. His jaws closed around the ghoul's heavy neck with crushing force as he threw it to the ground. Blood, too dark and too sticky to be human, gushed from the creature's throat as one of those sharp fangs opened its jugular. The ghoul had barely enough time to let out a high pitched scream before it died.

Meanwhile Treize's blade met the second intruder. A good eight feet tall, the ghoul loomed over the incubus. It had a square face with a wide, flat nose, heavy cheekbones and a massive muscular jaw. The creature's forearms were longer than that of a human and covered in knobby ridges of bone like a protective layer. Those long arms ended in large hands with long, dagger-like claws, clearly meant to slice and dice anything within its reach.

The glowing blade swiped through the air as Treize twisted out of the way, severing the ghoul's left leg just beneath the knee. As the creatures lost its balance and tumbled forward, the incubus swung his sword again, taking off its large ugly head in one swift motion.

There was barely enough time for Treize to take a deep breath before a third ghoul, leaping over his fallen companion with ease, landed in front of him with a growl. The incubus jumped back but underestimated the creature's range. Pain, searing hot and piercing, hit him as those long claws slashed across his belly, shredding the fabric of his shirt along with the skin beneath it. The incubus prince cried out in a mixture of pain and fury, and slashed at the ghoul as he leaped back further.

Black eyes burned with bloodlust and hunger as the creature tried to catch the sword in mid air with one hand. It howled in pain when it realized that pure energy couldn't be stopped that way. The glowing blade cut through its hand like hot steel through butter. Severed digits dropped to the ground bleeding and twitching as though they were still trying to grab the incubus. The ghoul let out another roar and threw itself on his opponent with all of its weight.

Treize was too busy avoiding being flattened by the living steamroller to notice another ghoul jumping at him from the side, both long arms stretched out to seize him and rip him to pieces. But just before the creature reached him, a vicious roar shook the air. Snowball, 700 pounds of deadly predator, flung himself onto the ghoul from behind. The creature howled as it was thrown to the ground. Treize, one arm pressed against his mid section, barely managed to dodge the falling body. The ghoul hit the floor hard enough to shake the house. It thrashed on the floor trying to throw off the white tiger until Snowball finally snapped its neck with a sickening crack.

Mad with fury and blood thirst the larger ghoul was still trying to slash at the incubus with the remaining claws of his maimed hand. Treize spun around, his sword whooshing through the air, and cut off the limb at its elbow. Warm blood splattered the nearby walls and furniture. The creature roared and Snowball answered with a ferocious snarl. The ghoul eyed the large cat, and suddenly seemed to decide that it wasn't ready to die yet. It dropped down, turned and took off on three limbs and one bloody stump faster than anyone would have given the heavy creature credit for. Piercing sounds of destruction followed the ghoul as it batted aside patio furniture and flowerpots on its way through the garden. With another snarl Snowball abandoned the bloody body of the ghoul he had just taken down and went on the pursuit.

"Lian!" Treize panted breathlessly, dark blood and gore dripping from the blade of his sword. "Get back here!"

It didn't seem like a good idea to follow the creature out into the dark. Especially, not knowing whether or not more of its kind where waiting out there in the open. The tiger, however seemed to have no intention of letting his prey get away. The incubus cursed under his breath.

Suddenly something strong and solid wrapped around his left ankle, pulling him off balance with one vicious tug. Treize hit the floor hard enough to knock the air from his lungs and stun him. He fell onto his right side, his sword hand buried beneath his body, but somehow managed to hold on to the blade.

The ghoul with the broken neck was still alive and started to pull the dazed incubus toward him. Black eyes burned as it opened its mouth in a grimace that only vaguely resembled a vicious grin. Drool and blood oozed from its lips and down the powerful jaws.

For a brief moment Treize nearly panicked. Being killed in battle was one thing. But being killed and devoured, or worse even…eaten alive was one of the primal fears not only reserved to humans. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. The incubus was close enough to smell the ghoul's foul breath when he pulled back his right leg and then drove his foot into the creature's face as hard as he could. The ghoul's already broad nose flattened even more under the impact, a few broken teeth mixed with blood squirted from its mouth. The creature howled in pain. Treize didn't wait for it to recover. He twisted his body, got his arm and his sword free and slashed the glowing blade across the ghoul's neck. The creature convulsed on the ground as its head separated from its shoulders and rolled away.

Even in death the ghoul kept its grip on the incubus' ankle, and Treize had to physically pry those sharp claws open before he was able to slip free. He winced as he pushed himself to his feet and took a few tender steps. It hurt, but at least nothing seemed broken.

For a brief moment it was quiet; quiet enough for the incubus prince to hear the sound of his pounding heart. Then that silence was broken by Snowball's roar. The roar turned into a snarl underlined with pain.

_LIAN! _

A flash of terror twisted Treize's gut. He reacted before he even knew it, driven by concern and a new rush of adrenalin. Jumping through the shattered patio window the incubus cleared pieces of broken furniture in long leaps. In the back of his mind something reminded him that this could be a trap. The things that had taken down Lian could be out there waiting for him to follow. He reached out with his senses, never even slowing down as he did so, and made out three beings in the darkness beyond the garden. Two ghouls he recognized, one of them dead, and Lian… his life-force weakening.

###

Milliardo didn't bother with proper parking technique. The Corvette came to a stop in a 45 degree angle to the street with one wheel on the driveway, after yet another illegal U-turn in front of Treize's house. He extracted his long limbs from the driver's seat as quickly as possible, and for one brief moment wished that the car was just a little bigger.

No lights were burning anywhere in the house from what he could tell, and everything seemed quiet. But as the young man made his way up the driveway he heard what he thought was a noise coming from the back of the house. Milliardo froze for a fraction of a second, listening into the darkness. He threw a brief look at the front door, then turned and ran around the side of the two story building. The wall surrounding the property was a good seven feet high, but made of natural stone. He had no trouble whatsoever climbing it. At the top, just before pulling himself over the rim, the young man paused.

Milliardo's eyes went wide as they swept over the garden. It looked nothing like he remembered it from his earlier visit. Where there had been neatly trimmed bushes and perfectly manicured lawns was now a chaos of broken glass, pieces of patio chairs and pottery. All in all, the garden looked as though a herd of raging elephants had made its way through. The large window that had separated the living room from the patio was gone, aside from a few shards of broken glass still clinging to the frame. Milliardo could only assume that this had been the source of the noise he had heard on the phone.

But where was Treize?

The young man could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise. Carefully and quietly he jumped down into the garden and made his way to the patio, whilst trying to avoid stepping into glass and debris. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and switched it to flashlight mode. A shiver that had nothing to do with cold ran down his spine as he directed the beam of light through the broken window. The floors and walls were splattered with something dark and thick as motor oil. But from the smell Milliardo could tell that it wasn't oil. The scent of blood mixed with the foul stench of decay that reminded him of the time when he had forgotten a bag with steaks and sausages in the trunk of his car for a week.

His stomach twisted as the young man noticed several dark lumps on the ground.

"Treize?!" he whispered, his voice trembling.

Milliardo hesitated before swiping the flashlight over one of those heaps. His eyes went wide in terror, even as he let out an involuntary sigh of the relief. The thing on the ground…or what was left of it wasn't Treize…or Snowball. It looked like something created in the darkest corners of someone's twisted imagination; large and hairless, with dark leathery skin and limbs too long for its body size and a head somewhat reminiscent to that of a Gamorean in the Star Wars universe.

_What the hell is that thing…?Was that thing, _he corrected himself. The creature at his feet had obviously been ripped apart by something large and even more powerful.

Something in the back of his mind told him to run… run and call the police. But he did neither. Instead Milliardo swallowed and let his light travel over several more bodies on the ground, each of them sliced or ripped to pieces. He took a couple of involuntary steps backwards, and promptly bumped his foot against something that rolled aside. He snapped around, directed the light beam from the phone at the object and swallowed a scream as he recognized the severed head of one of the grotesque creatures. The stump that used to be its neck still glistened with wet dark blood. His stomach twisted and suddenly he was glad that he had skipped dinner.

He moved backwards, trying to fight down the feeling of nausea by breathing through his mouth. He wasn't sure what was worse, the sight of the broken bodies or their stench.

"Treize?!" he called into the darkness, a little louder this time.

Suddenly there was something behind him. Milliardo felt the movement more than he saw it. He brought his arm up and gathered his power instinctively. The figure, at least as tall as he but a good 50 pounds heavier, was thrown aside like a rag doll. It crushed against one of the light posts, flanking the stairs to the patio, hard enough to leave a dent in it, and crumbled to the ground with a sound of surprise and pain. Before the young man could follow to see what had tried to attack him he heard the quiet click of a gun's safety being removed.

"You've got exactly two seconds to tell me who you are and what the hell you are doing here?" a voice, deep, smooth and without emotion, demanded.

Milliardo stopped. He slowly raised his hands while at the same time trying to summon his power again. But he had no idea whom to direct it against. The owner of the voice was keeping himself in the darkness. Meanwhile the figure he had thrown across the patio started to move with a groan.

With the phone still lit up like a flashlight the young man knew he was giving the shooter a perfect target. Maybe if he managed to turn it off and at the same time throw himself out of the way…

"Stop it!" Treize's voice, firm and full of authority, froze everyone. "Luther, put down your weapon and try not to shoot him! We have enough of a mess here without adding more to it. Milliardo, release that power you are holding… preferable not against my men! Leigh?"

Another groan came from the dark heap by the lamppost. "I'll survive."

Milliardo let out a sigh of relief and tried to relax as he turned to face the incubus prince, while somewhere in the darkness the gun was being secured again. Treize was still holding his sword. In the light of the glowing blade Milliardo couldn't help but notice his bloodied and ripped clothes.

"Treize!" he gasped, eyes wide in shock. "You are hurt!?"

Treize looked down on himself as though he only now took notice of the blood and gore. "Most of it isn't mine."

"My Prince?!" A man, big and bald like Mr. Clean, stepped out of the darkness, and Milliardo recognized him as the limousine driver from the night before. "What happened?"

"Ghouls." the incubus prince replied flatly. "Half a dozen of them. I think we got them all."

"We need to get you out of here, my Prince. This place isn't safe."

Treize nodded absentmindedly even as his eyes focused on Milliardo.

"How did you get here so fast?"

The blonde frowned. "I was already on the freeway when I called you. I heard the glass break after you put down your phone and came as fast as I could."

The incubus prince didn't blink. "Luther!" he ordered. "Touch him."

"What?" Milliardo's frown deepened and he jerked his head around to face the bald incubus.

"Relax."

The man took one step toward him, but before Milliardo could ask what exactly that meant he was suddenly overcome by a wave of concern and determination. And there was also a feeling like…no not really cheerfulness, but something very close to it; something positive, confident and strong. And then, within moments, he realized that those were not his own emotions but Luther's. Whatever the incubus had done, without ever physically touching him, seemed to have opened a channel between them. And apparently, it was a two way street.

The incubus seemed quite content with the life he was living. Milliardo felt a sense of humor radiating from him, or perhaps something more akin to mischief. He was probably the kind of person who might shrink-wrap a friend's car or decorate someone's piece of pumpkin pie with shaving cream instead of whipped cream; or have a good laugh if someone did those same things to him. But there was also a hint of sadness and grief. Luther had lost someone; someone he had cared about, and it had hurt him. Not enough time had passed for those wounds to fully heal. And then there was something else: something that sent a cold shiver down Milliardo's spine and made the hair on his neck stand up. Deep in the back of the incubus's mind was something feral and dangerous, like a wild beast ten times more dangerous than Snowball. The beast was content too, sated and sleeping. But nevertheless, it was there ready to wake at any moment.

Then as suddenly as it began it was over, and Milliardo 'woke' somewhat disoriented and lightheaded. The whole incident couldn't have taken longer than a couple of seconds. Leigh had only just managed to scramble back onto his feet and was shaking his head to clear it.

_What in the world…?_

Still bewildered he looked at Luther who was giving the incubus prince a firm, silent nod.

Treize closed his eyes briefly as though in relief, before focusing on the blonde again.

"I'm sorry, Milliardo, but I had to be sure."

Milliardo blinked but before he could ask any questions the incubus prince already turned toward Luther.

"Get the Mercedes out of the garage. You will have to open the gate manually. Bring it around to the back of the property as far as you can," he ordered. "Snowball is hurt …badly. I was able to stop the bleeding, but he can't make it to the car on his own."

"We will take care of him… after you are safe."

"I'm not leaving without him." There was no room for argument in Treize's voice. "Leigh, you are with me. "

Mr. Clean hesitated for a brief moment then hurried off to carry out his orders, while Leigh followed the incubus prince wordlessly.

Milliardo swallowed to rid himself of the hint of jealousy that accompanied the feeling of being 'left out', triggered by Treize's reaction.

"Is there anything I can do?" he wanted to know.

The incubus prince held his step to turn his head, gave him a brief look of contemplation and then nodded. "We could use some light. There are glow sticks in the First Aid kit under the kitchen sink. If you want to help get those and grab some towels while you are at it?"

The blonde swallowed. The last thing he wanted was to walk into the house and look at those things again, but he nodded nevertheless.

"Got it."

Milliardo steeled himself, prayed that his phone wasn't going to run out of juice half way to the kitchen and tried hard not to bump into any more dismembered body parts. He found the case with the red cross just where Treize had said it would be, and within it three glow sticks, those little chemical lights people used in emergencies and children carried around at Halloween. He removed one of the sticks from the pack, cracked it and shook it to mix the chemicals before turning off his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. He found a stack of dish towels in a cabinet next to the sink, grabbed them and headed back.

Maneuvering the maze of body parts on the way back out was no more pleasant than coming in. Milliardo took a deep breath of fresh air when he finally made it back onto the patio, then hurried in the direction Treize and Leigh had left in a few minutes earlier. Solar lights lit the garden path, but as soon as he passed the gate it was dark. The glow stick only illuminated an area of a few feet around him.

"Treize?" he called out, cautiously.

"Over here!" came the incubus' voice from somewhere in the darkness.

He followed the sound and nearly stumbled over the body of another… what had Treize called them… Ghouls?! The creature was missing it's throat and a good chunk of its chest along with it. Milliardo's stomach lurched at the sight and he quickly turned his head away.

Less than a hundred yards further down the path he found Treize and Leigh. The two of them were crouching over something the prone body of the large white tiger. The fur on one side, near Snowball's belly was matted with blood, and the animal was breathing in labored pants.

"Is he…alright?"

Treize turned his head and looked back at him. "He is alive," he said, his voice a little terse, or maybe that was just Milliardo's imagination. "But he has lost a lot of blood. And he took a few good chunks out of those creatures we were fighting. Ghoul flesh is toxic, you must understand."

"But… you said he is a divine beast," Milliardo pointed out as he handed his glow stick to the incubus, then pulled out and cracked another one. "Wouldn't that make him immortal or something?"

Leigh looked up, his eyes moving over Milliardo for just a second but appeared to be taking in everything he needed in that brief instant.

"Immortals are not…well truly immortal," he explained, his voice low and smooth.

Only now, in the light of the glow stick did Milliardo get his first good look at the man. He was big, but without so much as an ounce of fat on him. Somehow he reminded Milliardo of a heavy dog, built for fighting. His face was handsome, in a very manly kind of way. And there was something else the blonde noted. His features, eyes and nose mirrored those of Luther. Well, aside from the hair… or in Luther's case lack thereof… of course. Brothers?

"Isn't that a paradox?" Milliardo frowned.

Leigh simply shrugged, as he started to tightly wrap some of the towels around the tiger's midsection. The animal gave a pained sound and jerked his head up to snarl at the tall man before Treize grabbed him and held him down with gentle force while whispering soft, calming words.

Milliardo eyes narrowed. _Was the incubus prince speaking Chinese? _

But before he got a chance to muse any more about that the sound of an approaching car engine indicated that Luther had gotten the Mercedes out of the garage. A few moments later the large car's headlights became visible in the distance. A Mercedes is a luxury car; an all terrain vehicle it is not. There was no way the driver could make it through the hip-high patches of deer grass without getting stuck. Luther came as close as he could. The fact that he even managed to turn the car in this terrain seemed like a small miracle in itself.

Treize rose to his feet as the black car came to a halt. Snowball had stopped moving, leading Milliardo to assume that he either had lost consciousness or had been put under some sort of spell.

"Put him into the back seat...carefully," Treize ordered. "While I go and change into something a bit less atrocious looking. Milliardo, call his vet; Doctor Po at the Arbor Clinic on Trabuco and tell them we are coming."

"But my Prince...!"

Whatever it was Leigh was going to say, the incubus prince cut him off before he even got started. "It isn't open for discussion."

The tall man clenched his jaws but nodded. "Yes, Sir."

###

It took the incubus prince no more than three minutes to return, wearing a clean pair of jeans and still buttoning his shirt. Meanwhile Luther and Leigh had, with the help of a blanket from the trunk of the Mercedes, carried the injured tiger to the car and deposited him gently onto the large backseat. The fact that the cat was more than double their combined weight didn't seem to bother the two incubi brothers in the least.

"I was able to get a hold of Doctor Po," Milliardo reported as he fell into step next to Treize. "I told her Snowball had lost a lot of blood. They will be ready and waiting for us."

"Us?"

"I'm coming," the young man announced firmly.

Once again Treize seemed to hesitate but in the end nodded. "Very well."

Before he, Milliardo and Luther piled into the car the incubus prince turned to Leigh. "Take care of things here. I'll call you and tell you what to say to the police in case they show up. I don't think anyone heard anything but you never know."

Leigh gave a crisp nod of acknowledgement. "Understood. Should I call Nichols?"

Treize seemed to consider it for a moment then shook his head. "Nothing gained from having him here. If one of my employees asks for a night off once in 150 years, I think the least I can do is try to oblige him." The hint of humor in his voice couldn't complete drown out his fatigue and anxiety.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: **This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story.  
>A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood Ties<strong>

**Chapter 31**

Sally Po shivered in the evening breeze as she stood outside the little veterinarian clinic at the edge of the small strip mall. For a moment she considered going inside to fetch a jacket, but she was afraid that her patient might arrive whilst she was gone. From what she understood it was an emergency, and time might be of the essence.

She had just finished up with her last patient, and was sitting over the paper work when the call came in. This was really not an emergency clinic, and under other circumstances she might have directed the caller to the all-night Pet hospital. But from the sound of things Snowball might not survive the 20+ minute drive to the hospital.

Snowball... She still remembered the first time she had met the big cat... It had been about two years ago; shortly after she had moved to his location. She had just arrived and was still changing from her street clothing to the lavender colored scrubs when Gwendolyn, the receptionist, knocked at the door to her office.

::: begin flashback :::

_"Doctor Po, there is a gentleman out here. I think you might want to see him right away."_

_She frowned as she slipped the top over her head and walked toward the door._

_"Is it an emergency?"_

_""Well... I'm not sure I would call it that...but..." Gwendolyn handed her a new patients chart as she opened the door. _

_Her frown deepened as she looked the paperwork over "Feline... sex: male... age: unknown... name: Snowball..." she read. The animal's weight had been left blank and behind the checkmark for feline someone had scribbled 'tiger' in blue ink. She assumed that should have gone in the line below, referring to the cat's color. The owner's name read Treize Khushrenada, but the notes section was blank and there was no indication whether anything was wrong with the animal or not. _

_Papers in hand Sally Po walked into the waiting room to find out why said Mister Khushrenada found it necessary to bring his pet in before the clinic's opening hours… and stopped dead in her tracks the moment she opened the door. There, in the middle of her waiting room stood an honest to goodness, fully grown tiger, and he looked like he owned the place._

_**Well I suppose,**__ she thought, __**if you are 700 pounds of pure muscle and claws you pretty much own every place you walk into.**_

_The tiger was wearing a studded leather collar and attached to it was a thick leather lead that, for all intents and purposes, might as well have been a string of cotton wool. The other end of the leash was held in the hand of a tall, well-dressed man with ginger colored hair. _

_"Mister Khushrenada?" She assumed._

_He rose to his feet extending his free hand to her. "Doctor Po I presume? Thank you for seeing us early. I figured it might be better to come in before your waiting room is filled with other patients."_

_"Ah, yes…" she replied somewhat lamely as she shook his hand. "I suppose so. Is there something wrong with him?"_

_"Not as far as I know." Treize Khushrenada pulled some folded papers from the inside pocket of his coat. "He just needs his annual checkup and shots for the renewal of my license for him."_

_"Oh?!" She looked at the paper then at the tiger again. "Well, maybe we should take it to the examining room then?"_

_The tall man nodded and followed her as she led the way, or at least he was trying to, only Snowball had a different idea. The large cat simple dug his heels in and didn't budge as his owner tried to pull him along, slanted eyes directed at the reception desk. _

_"Snowball?!" Treize Khushrenada clucked his tongue disapprovingly, then sighed. "I'm sorry; I think he is waiting for a treat," he smiled apologetically. "His old vet used to have a jar of snacks in the waiting room."_

_"So do we, but…" Sally stepped toward the reception desk and reached into a container with all natural beef chews. "…my patients are usually a bit smaller." _

_The tiger sniffed her hand as she carefully extended it towards him, graciously licked the tiny morsels off her palm before throwing his head up and strutting past her toward the examining rooms. _

_Sally Po exchanged an amused look with the cat's owner. The tawny-haired man gave a tiny shrug._

_"It's the thought that counts, I suppose."_

_::: End Flashback :::_

Sally couldn't help but smile at the memory, but it was a sad smile, underlined with concern for the animal.

She was not one of those people who, in general, supported the fad of keeping wild animals as pets. But from what she understood Snowball had lived nearly all of his life amongst humans. His mother had been killed by hunters and he had only survived by the grace of those who found him half starved and near death. And, of course, considering his color it was questionable how long he would have survived in the wild anyway. How he had ended up in this part of the world in the hands of Treize Khushrenada was something she still wasn't sure of. But he had all the proper permits and permissions to keep the tiger, the means to support him and, most of all, he seemed to genuinely care about the animal.

There was still no sign of the car, and she was beginning to worry. The caller had said that Snowball had been stabbed, but didn't give much detail. _Who_, she wondered, _would be crazy enough to try stabbing a fully grown tiger… and get away with it? _

**###**

"Can't we go any faster?" There was no criticism or accusation in Treize's voice, just concern.

Luther glanced up at him in the rearview mirror. "Not unless you had the car fitted with jet engines since the last time I drove it, my Prince. Sorry."

The incubus prince said nothing. He was sitting in the back seat with Snowball's head in his lap, anxiety in his eyes as he stroked the large cat absentmindedly.

"What is wrong?" Milliardo twisted in the passenger seat to look back over his shoulder.

"His breathing is slowing and I can barely feel his heart beat. I'm afraid we are running out of time." Treize Khushrenada replied. "Step on it."

"Yes, Sir!"

Luther tapped the blinker as they approached Trabuco, but didn't bother to even slow down as he took the corner. The Mercedes shot down the open street like a racecar on the track. The bald incubus knew how to drive. Hell, he had been driving cars ever since they had operated on just one cylinder and less than 15 hp.

Suddenly Luther let out a curse. He saw the police car at the side of the road, hidden in the shadows of a large billboard, only when he went past it, about 30 miles per hour above the speed limit. He also saw the cop behind the wheel blink and flinch as he spilled the coffee he was holding all over himself.

"Just keep driving!" the incubus prince told him, apparently he had noticed the speed trap, too.

Behind them the lights of the police cruiser blinked to life. Sirens started to blare even before the car began moving. Luther rounded another corner. He saw the strip mall ahead of them and on his left. He passed it and made a U-turn at the next intersection, across a double yellow line; before finally easing off on the gas pedal to pull into the mall's parking area.

Behind him on the street he could see the cop car overshoot the intersection then slow down to turn around.

A woman dressed in scrubs, her hair pulled together in braids that made her look even younger than she was, was waiting outside the animal clinic. Luther brought the Mercedes to a stop so close to her that she took a couple of steps backward.

Treize Khushrenada slipped out of the car first. "Back seat." he bellowed.

Dr Po waved for her technician, a lanky dark-skinned man with curly black hair, who was waiting at the entrance with a cloth covered stretcher before opening the back door. A involuntary gasp escaped her lips at the sight of the blood drenched towels around the tiger's body.

The police car pulled up with flashing lights and howling sirens, stopping directly behind the black luxury car. The cop, a man in his mid 30s, looked slightly annoyed as he got out of his cruiser. He kept one hand on his holster next to his service revolver as he approached the group that had gathered around the Mercedes, just as the white tiger was moved onto the gurney.

"Who is the…" he broke off and swallowed, his face turning a few shades paler at the sight of the large cat, and he took an involuntary step backward. "Holy Shit! I take it you have the proper permits for that... uh animal."

"I do." Treize Khushrenada replied flatly, while Dr Po shot the officer an icy look.

"Perhaps we can worry about that later? Zack, take him in and start an IV." she ordered firmly. "Have Hannah check the blood supplies. We might not have as much as we need; maybe one of the nearby clinics has some to spare."

"Got it, Doctor." the young man nodded and left with the injured cat.

"I'll give him a hand, moving him to the table," Luther volunteered.

"Thanks." Sally nodded then turned to Treize Khushrenada. "What happened?" she wanted to know.

The tawny haired man gave a tired shrug. "Someone tried to break into my house. Snowball heard them before I did. He scared them off, I guess, but not before they did that to him. I think he also might have eaten someone… um… something toxic."

"Poisoned bait!" the cop announced matter-of-factly, earning himself questioning looks from Sally as well as the incubus.

"There have been some reports in the past," he explained. "Burglars bringing along meat tainted with some kind of quick working poison to take out guard dogs. I suppose they expected a Rottweiler or Pit-bull… certainly not THAT." The cop thrust his jaw in the direction Snowball had been taken.

Dr Po gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement, as she filed away that useful information, and then turned back to Treize. "We'll talk later. If you'd wait inside, I might need to ask you another question or two."

With that she hurried off, disappearing into the clinic through the side door.

The cop, meanwhile, had pulled out some sort of notepad; obviously to hand out a citation…or five.

"Mister…?"

"Khushrenada," Treize offered as he pulled out his wallet to identify himself. "If you check with the proper authorities you will find all my legal permits for owning that tiger are in order, Officer."

"I'm sure they are," the cop replied. "But you have to understand, I have to ask. But in regard to those burglars you spoke about... I understand they got away? Was anything stolen?"

"What?" the incubus prince frowned, slightly confused. "No… At least I don't think so. Quite frankly that is the least of my concern right now. Everything in that house can be replaced. It's just…money."

Milliardo, in an attempt to stay out of people's way while they were taking care of Snowball, had stayed in the car until the cat had been taken away. Before finally slipping from the passenger seat he removed the protective amulet from around his neck, stuffed it into his pocket where he could quickly reach it if need be, and made himself a mental note to talk to Wufei and learn how to actually control the charm.

He walked over to the incubus prince and gently placed his hand onto the tawny-haired man's shoulder, trying to offer a small measure of unspoken support. He was surprised and even a little taken aback when he felt Treize tense under his touch.

"Yes, I understand," the cop nodded. "Nevertheless you should report the incident. The sooner, the better."

Treize pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly. " I will," he said. "In a day or two I will come by the police station and file a report. But right now, I'm just too damn tired to care. So if you just give me my ticket, Officer…?!"

The cop looked at him for one more minute, then the notepad disappeared again into some pocket of his coffee splattered uniform. "Ticket? We all should do our part to conserve paper, shouldn't we?" he said.

The incubus prince blinked. "Thank you, Officer."

The other man turned with a little shrug and started to walk back to his police car. He stopped one more time just before he reached for the door.

"I'm a dog person, myself. But I wish you good luck anyway, Sir. I hope he pulls through."

With that he climbed back behind the wheel and started the engine.

Just as the police cruiser turned and pulled out of the little mall's parking area Luther returned from inside the clinic.

"Do I still have a driver's license?" he asked watching the blue and white car disappear.

"Not even a ticket," the incubus prince told him.

The other man raised one eyebrow.

"Not my doing," Treize told him. "We will go inside. This could turn into a long night."

"I'll stay in the car, if you don't mind, Sir." Luther replied, earning himself a nod from the other incubus.

###

There was a small but comfortable looking sitting area left of the reception desk; a low table filled with magazines and brochures, a taupe colored two-seater with two matching upholstery chairs, and several more chairs along the wall next to a water dispenser. Pictures and posters of cats and dogs decorated the walls along with a large corkboard plastered with photographs of grateful patients and their owners.

Milliardo dropped into the loveseat with a content sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. His emotions had been on a rollercoaster ride all evening and now that he finally slowed down he felt... for lack of a better word, emotionally drained.

Treize didn't sit down next to him, but instead settled into the chair to his left, something that bothered the younger man a little, but didn't completely surprise him. The incubus had opened the door for Milliardo and waited for him to enter first, but the blonde couldn't help but feel a certain reservation from the other man.

_He is exhausted…upset…probably hungry, _the young man reminded himself. _I mean he has to be after fighting those… things. That might also explain why he is trying to keep his distance. It isn't as though he can just start feeding in public. Speaking of which…I could do with a bite to eat myself. _

Milliardo was starving. Not only had he skipped dinner, but using his powers when he threw Leigh across the patio had probably burned more energy than any workout he had ever done. He wasn't much for working out and exercising to begin with, never had found it necessary. For as long as he could remember he had the physique and vitality of an athlete, without having actually to work for it. Maybe it was a demon thing.

The young man was somewhat familiar with the area. If he wasn't mistaken 'Jerry's Subs' was just around the corner, less than a block away. The place never closed as far as he knew, and their sandwiches were some of the best he had ever eaten. Milliardo was still considering if he should head over and pick up some subs for everyone when the cell phone in his pocket came to life. He recognized the ringtone at once.

"I'd better take that," he said as he rose to his feet and walked to the other side of the room.

If there was one thing he hated it was people who forced others to listen in on their private phone conversations. Even though he still lowered his voice as he picked the call up.

"Hey Wufei."

"Milliardo!? Where are you?" There was a concerned tone in the younger man's voice.

"I'm fine. Don't worry, Wufei. But I'm in the middle of something right now," Milliardo told him. "In fact I'm not sure when I'm going to be home either. So, don't bother waiting up for me. We can talk in the morning."

There was a brief pause as the other man seemed to think.

"Are you with HIM?" Wufei finally asked.

Milliardo didn't have to ask who he was referring to. "Yes and no, I guess. I'm with him, but not actually WITH him. We are at the vets office.

"You are where?"

The blonde hesitated then turned so that his back was turned toward the sitting area, and lowered his voice even further. "Someone... something attacked Treize at his house earlier tonight."

There was another moment of surprised silence.

"Treize Khushrenada was attacked and you took him to the vet?" Wufei's voice was laced with confusion.

"No! Not Treize. We are here with his... um cat. He got hurt in the attack. Listen, Wufei, let's talk later, okay?"

"Milliardo!" Wufei's voice was cool and firm. "I know you didn't ask for my advice, but listen anyway. I don't think you staying with him right now is a good idea. Besides, you don't want to make his enemies your own. Come home...now."

Milliardo's eyes narrowed slightly and he had to force his rising anger out of his voice.

"You are right," he said. "I did not ask for your advice. As I told you already, I don't need you to be my mother. Good night, Wufei."

"Milliardo...!?"

The other man's protest was cut short as the blonde hung up the phone. Milliardo gave a semi-annoyed huff as he slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked back toward the sitting area.

"Wufei!" he snorted. "He acts like an overprotective mother hen sometimes."

Treize gave him a polite, but tired smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"You can't help but worry about people you care for."

"I suppose." The younger man shrugged as he dropped back into the seat he had occupied earlier.

The incubus prince leaned forward to reach for one of the magazines on the table. He winced in pain and braced his mid section with the other hand.

Milliardo gave him a alarmed look. "You ARE injured. Are you alright? Should Luther take you to a doctor?"

"It's healing already." Treize replied through gridded teeth. "I've been hurt worse."

"What the hell were those things?"

"Ghouls."

"Yeah. I gathered that much. But what exactly does that mean? What are they?"

Milliardo was keeping his voice low. His eyes went to the reception desk, which was empty, but he could hear someone rummaging somewhere in a backroom. There were sounds like water being turned on and soon after the sputtering of a coffeemaker mixed with the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

"Predators... no scavengers," Treize explained. "You could say Ghouls are the hyenas and vultures of the demon world. They more often than not feed on the dead or dying, even though they are quite capable of hunting and killing for themselves."

That last statement didn't surprise Milliardo in the least. Those things, from what he remembered, looked like they were made for killing.

In the backroom someone was moving cups and plates around from the sound of things.

"Why did they…" Milliardo threw another look in the direction of the reception desk. "…attack you?"

"**That**," Treize replied. "Is the $10,000 question. Ghouls don't have the kind of power it takes to create portals on their own, unless…"

"…they are near water?" the younger man asked.

The incubus prince nodded. "Or around cemeteries, for example, where the constant movement of spirits weakens the natural barrier between the realms. That's probably why ghouls are mostly found in the proximity of gravesites where they also have an ample supply of food."

Milliardo shuddered; a cold shiver running down his spine. Graveyards were creepy places to begin with, as far as he was concerned, without knowing about things like ghouls hanging out there.

Just then a woman in her late 40s, with dark hair and kind eyes came through the little gate that divided the public area from the rest of the clinic, carrying a tray with steaming coffee and cups. Instinctively, both Milliardo and the incubus prince jumped to their feet to help her. Treize was a fraction of a second faster.

"Allow me." He took the tray with a polite smile and carried it to the table.

"Thank you," the woman, the little plastic tag on her chest read Gwendolyn, said with a smile of her own. "I thought you might need a little pick me up."

"Thank you. That's very kind of you."

She nodded and left them to take care of whatever duties she had to take care of.

Milliardo, still on his feet, reached for the carafe with coffee and filled one of the large coffee mugs imprinted with images of - who would have thought- cats and dogs.

"I'm going to take this out to Luther." he said, directed at the incubus. "I assume he drinks coffee?"

####

Luther had moved the car slightly, and once Milliardo walked up to the Mercedes he also knew why. From where he was sitting, the big Incubus had a clear view inside the clinic's waiting area.

_He's been watching us,_ Milliardo realized. _So that's why he wanted to stay out here._

Luther had turned on the radio and reclined the driver seat to make himself comfortable…or as comfortable as one could get in the cockpit of a car. Well, at least a Mercedes wasn't a Mini Cooper.

The window lowered as Milliardo approached and the incubus popped out his shiny smooth head, eying him questioningly.

"Coffee?" the blonde asked.

"Thanks."

Milliardo handed him the mug then pulled a pack of sweetener and two of those little plastic cups of creamer from his pocket. The incubus just shook his head.

"Uh…listen," the young man didn't leave right away. "About earlier… I didn't realize that you and your brother were with Treize. I guess you guys surprised and startled me. I didn't mean to…"

Luther waved the apology away.

"Don't worry about it. It's water under the bridge."

"Your brother looked a little miffed about me throwing him against that lamppost."

"He'll get over it."

"Well, anyway, I'm glad I didn't seriously hurt him."

The incubus gave a semi-amused snort. "It takes a little more than that."

Milliardo grinned a little. He cleared his throat, hesitating until Luther looked up at him questioningly.

"When Treize told you to... um do that 'Vulcan Mind-meld' thingy with me…what did he mean when he said he had to be sure? Sure about what?"

"That you really were who you claimed to be."

The young man frowned slightly.

"There are many creatures that can take human shape, you know."

"He thought I was something else pretending to be me?"

Luther just shrugged. "I'm sure you have heard the saying 'You are what you eat'? With ghouls you need to take that literally. They can take on the form of the last being they have devoured."

Milliardo swallowed and turned a few shades paler.

"Thanks...I guess."

He gave the incubus a brief nod then headed back inside the clinic.

Treize had poured two more cups of coffee, but it didn't look like he had touched his own yet.

"You look exhausted. Why don't you try taking a nap?" Milliardo suggested as he put sugar as well as cream into his drink. "This couch isn't half bad. I'll wake you if there is any news."

"I'm fine."

"If you say so," the blonde shrugged as he took as sip of coffee. He turned his head, looking at the incubus prince.

"Luther told me that ghouls can impersonate humans. There are so many things I have no idea about."

"Not only ghouls.," Treize replied. "There are a number of beings with such powers; demons that are even capable of taking over someone's body, controlling and slowly absorbing the person's power and becoming more powerful themselves in doing so. I have come across a few of them in my lifetime."

_Damn… I had no idea._

Milliardo needed a moment to wrap his head around that idea. It was a scary thought to say the least. Then he looked up and nodded.

"I guess that explains your reaction when you saw me at your house. But hell, Treize, you should know me well enough…"

"Should I, really?" there was a thin layer of ice in Treize's voice. "Think about it. You shadow me in your car…you show up at my house and talk your way into my bed… you start asking me all kinds of questions about the pool in my garden and portals to the Other World… And low and behold no more than 24 hours later someone opens a portal in my backyard and sends a horde of half-crazed ghouls through to kill me. How does that look to you?"

The blonde almost cringed. Treize was right, adding all those things together it did look like someone… something might have been manipulating him.

"Treize…!" he started.

"You called me just before the attack and asked if I was alright. You knew something was going to happen… or had happened," the incubus prince continued. "How?"

"I didn't know, not exactly. It's not like you think," the younger man muttered quietly. "It was more like a premonition or something. I suddenly had the feeling that you were in danger, that something had attacked you. But don't ask me how."

"A premonition?" Treize echoed.

"I know it sounds crazy. I just wish you would trust me." Milliardo couldn't say he blamed the other man. It sounded farfetched even to his own ear.

"Milliardo, I care about you, more than I could express in a few words. And I want to believe you feel the same about me. But trust is something that doesn't come easy for me… not anymore." the incubus prince replied quietly, somberly."

Milliardo swallowed.

"That's why I had to be certain. A mind touch is not the most pleasant experience, I realize. But it is one of the fastest and most reliable ways to tell if someone's mind has been tampered with."

"I'm not angry that you did it. But I wish you would have asked me," Milliardo told him. "I would have let you do it, you know."

"Only if you truly were who you claimed to be," Treize pointed out. "And there was no time for explanations."

"I suppose," the younger man admitted with a tiny shrug as he picked up his coffee cup again.

* * *

><p>T.B.C.<p>

Author's Note:


End file.
